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ON THE 



EASTERN STATES. 



By WILLIAM TUDOR. 



SECOND EDITION. 



BOSTON : 

WELLS AND LILLY — COURT-STREEf. 



1821. 




COFYMtlGHT SECtTRRD. 



NOTE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 



The following Letters, addressed to dif- 
ferent persons, were principally written with- 
in the last year. The reader may consider 
them to be dated in Boston. The subjects 
are so miscellaneous, that the simplest me- 
thod of arrangement seemed to be the pre- 
cedence of date ; in which order they are 
here placed. 

September, 1819 



PREFACE. 



The first edition of these Letters was published at 
a distance from the author, and from manuscripts that 
had not been copied ; these circumstances may partly 
account for its numerous errors. The prefatatory 
note attached to that edition, has the original date 
restored ; which the printers without any attention to 
its connection, altered to the time of publishing the 
book, and thus rendered a few statements and allu- 
sions contradictory. 

The author is indebted to the Editor of the Na- 
tional Gazette for a very courteous notice of the 
work. He has still further obligations to the Editor 
of the North American Review for an extended 
account of it, in which one of the offices of criticism 
was exercised in the most lenient manner, the full 
extent of which was not appreciated until he came 
to this revisal. The objections made by. both these 
gentlemen — very accomplished judges — are indispu- 
tably well founded ; yet they were perhaps nearly in- 
evitable, under the circumstances in which these 
Letters were written. 

The form of the work is not wholly fictitious, 
though much the largest part was thrown into this 
shape for convenience. There may be a slight de- 
gree of ridicule, in giving the name of an author to a 
work of this kind ; but particular circumstances would 
have made it more absurd to withhold it. It ip 



VI PREFACE. 

neither a statistical work, a Traveller's Guide, or a 
procluction of fancy. The object was to give just 
notions of a distinguished section of the United 
States, and incidentally of the nation at large ; with 
the hope of conveying information even to Americans, 
and placing strangers in the right paths for investiga- 
tion. It was written in a desultory way, without the 
aid of any books, being the result of long and various 
reflection, with some opportunities for observation, 
and under very slight subjection to any sect or party. 

In wishing to avoid exaggeration, the author may 
not have done justice to some of the topics he has 
treated: they will not be injured by this reserve. 
He imposed on himself a rule not to speak of indi- 
viduals, which is observed with very few exceptions. 
It would have added mucli vivacity to some parts of 
the work, and afforded him a particular gratification, 
one from which he was hardly restrained, to have 
spoken of several remarkable persons in our society : 
but not being an adept in personal panegyric or sa- 
tire, he was more anxious not to shock that feeling 
in regard to bringing before the public private anec- 
dote and character, which, whether it be owing to 
modesty or prudery, is so prevalent among us. 

The intention of remedying the defects that have 
been pointed out was given up, after finding on con- 
sideration, that it would be necessary to remould the 
work entirely. The author has therefore limited 
liimself to correcting the numerous verbal errors, and 
adding a few illustrations either in the body of the 
page or in notes. With these amendments it is again 
submitted to the indulgence of the public. 



CONTENTS. 



LETTER I. 

Page 
On certain Funeral Ceremonies 9 

LETTER II. 
Politics 26 

LETTER III. 
Religion 75 

LETTER IV. 
Commerce 116 

LETTER V. 
Literature 141 

LETTER VI. 
Fine Arts 173 

LETTER VII. 
On the relative Rank of Americans 1S5 

LETTER VIII. 

Character and Condition of Women 206 

LETTER IX. 
Agriculture 233 



Viii CONTENTS. 

LETTER X. 

Page. 

Manufactures 262 

LETTER XL 

Remarks on certain points of Administration in different 
States 267 

LETTER XIL 
On the past, present, and future State of the Indians 279 

LETTER XIIL 
Scenery and Climate 306 

LETTER XIV. 
Harvard University 334 

LETTER XV. 

The Town of Boston 354 

LETTER XVI. 

Genius, Character, and Manners of the Inhahitants of 
New-England 378 



&c. 
LETTER I. 

ON CERTAIN FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 

X HE advice you wish me to give, my dear friend, 
in a certain quarter, would be useless. I have long 
lost all influence there, if I ever had any. Counsel 
from me to avoid exposure to the pestilence, would 
rather induce your kinsman to encounter it, and run 
the chance of the contingency, to prove me wrong. 
I believe, however, that your fears are needless, and 
you may safely calm your solicitude: — Were it other- 
wise, I could hardly partake of it. I am glad that 
your own experience and feelings, make you think 
death such a misfortune for others: for myself, I 
think it far from being the worst thing that can hap- 
pen to us, and there are situations in which, though it 
would not be justifiable to seek it, 'tis not worth the 
trouble to avoid it. J have felt many moments when 
9 



10 

it appeared a desirable alternative. — 1 rejoice that 
you have not found life, to borrow the exasperated ex- 
pressions of Helen M'Gregor, " the same weary and 
wasting burden that it is to rue ; — that it is to every 
noble and generous mind." But I have so much 
reason to regard its loss with indifference, that I can 
but faintly participate in your apprehensions. To 
say the truth, I am at times seriously tired of this 
chrysalis state of existence, and feel a wish to be trying 
my wings in a different region. You know that I am 
not sullen, nor careless of your anxieties ? but if my 
views are gloomy, are not your fears unfounded ; — or 
if not unfounded, are they not exaggerated ? This is a 
subject that will bear the support of poetry : let me 
recall a passage that you are well acquainted with. 

Reason thus with life : — 



If I do lose thee, I dolose a thing 

That none but fools would reck ; — a breath thou art, 

Servile to all the skyey influences, 

That do this habitation, where thou keep'st, 

Hourly afflict. Merely thou art death's fool ; 

For him thou labourist by thy flight to shun, 

And yet runn'st tow'rd him still : — Thou art not noble ; 

For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 

Are nurs'd by baseness : — Thou'rt by no means vaUant j 

For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 

Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, 

And that thou oft provok'st, yet grossly fear'st 

Thy death, which is no more. Thou'rt not thyself 

For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains, 

That issue out of dust : — Happy thou art not ; 

For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get, 



11 

Aod what thou hast, forget'st : — Thou art not certain ; 

For thy complexion shifts to strange efl'ects, 

After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor ; 

For like an ass whose back with ingots bows. 

Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, 

And death unloadeth thee. Friends thou hast none : 

For thy own bowels, which do call thee sire, 

The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 

Do curse the gout, serpigo^ and the rheum, 

For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age, 

But as it were an after-dinner's sleep, 

Dreaming on both : for palPd, thy blessed youth 

Becomes as aged — and doth beg the alms 

Of palsied Eld : and when thou'rt old and rich. 

Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, 

To make thy riches pleasant : — What's yet in this 

That bears the name of life ? yet in this life 

Lie hid more thousand deaths ; yet death we fear, 

That makes these odds all even. 

Yet I do not wish to bring you to my conclusions ; 
and if these arguments have an influence that way, 
you know where to find in the same admirable 
drama,* the opposite side of the question, stated even 
more eloquently, and with an effect that will make 
you shudder. 

You will do me the justice to acknowledge that, 
whatever may be the course of my reflections, I do 
not often talk or write in the strain I have here been 
led into ; but it may be a fit occasion, after this intro- 
duction, to make some remarks, which I once promis- 

• Measure for Measure. 



12 

ed you, on the subject of funerals, as they are prac- 
tised in the eastern states. The traits of peculiarity 
which distinguish them are all derived, like many 
other things in our habits and customs, from the 
practice of the forefathers, and are considerably 
tinctured with that stoical spirit, which the circum- 
stances they were placed in, and the austere princi- 
ples of their religion, combined to produce. 

In that lot which is common to all, it might have 
been supposed, that some similarity of practice would 
have taken place. Yet the manner of disposing of 
the body after death, is almost as various as are the 
causes which produce it. The Hebrews gathered the 
bodies of their friends to the bones of their fathers, 
in caves. The Egyptians embalmed the frail tene- 
ment, which becomes so ignoble the moment the 
ethereal spirit has fled, and thus handed down to pos- 
terity their hideous mummies ; the Greeks buried 
or burned their dead indiscriminately ; among the 
Romans, the bodies of the great were always burn- 
ed. Some savage nations expose their dead on 
scaffolds, to be devoured by birds ; others commit 
them to the current of some sacred stream, to be con- 
sumed by fishes. The first Christians adopted the 
practice of burying, which was partly induced by 
some points of religious belief, and confirmed by the 
gradual introduction of many superstitious practices, 
till this method every were accompanied their reli- 
gion. 

The Romans erected their mausolea on the sides of 
their highways, or at the entrance of their country 



13 

seats. Now and then an individual, in modern times, 
recurs to the practice of antiquity. The late Duke of 
Oldenburgh, the most virtuous and estimable prince 
of his time, built, by the side of the public burying 
ground of his little capital, a tomb with the form of a 
small Grecian temple, in the simplest Doric style» 
and in the purest taste ; in this were to be deposit- 
ed the urns containing the ashes of his family, whose 
bodies were burnt in a small building adjoining. The 
Marquis of Stafford has placed opposite the entrance 
of his residence in Staffordshire, a stately tomb for 
his family. But the common custom of the Chris- 
tian w^orld, is the literal fulfilment of the precept, 
" dust to dust ;" and the place of deposite is either 
within the walls of the church, or the surrounding 
cemetery that is consecrated with it. In this coun- 
try alone,* is there any deviation from this solemn, 
affecting, yet often noxious usage. It is solemn to 
place the remains of our friends within that sacred 
temple, which is dedicated to God ; it is affecting to 
offer our devotions, surrounded by the graves of those 
we have loved ; but in great cities, it becomes as 
noxious to the living as it is useless to the dead, and 
a wise police has gradually prohibited it in most 
countries, or at least diminished the evil, by reserving 
such sepulture for those of high distinction. 

♦ The deputies who were sent to this country from Pernambuco, in its recent re- 
volt, made a visit to Boston, and nothing appeared to strike them with more sur- 
prise, than the seeing some burying grounds in the country, unprotected hv. and 
out of siglit of, any church. 



14 

Funeral ceremonies are every where different, and 
people of different nations would mutually revolt at 
those to which they had not been accustomed ; for 
when the feelings of religion and the anguish of grief 
have combined their effects on our minds, we are 
particularly shocked at any thing that differs from us. 
In the south of Italy, the last care of friends is to 
array the deceased in a full dress : if a man, his hair 
is powdered, a sword put by his side, and a bouquet 
at his breast, and then the body is delivered to monks, 
or to one of those benevolent fraternities, that devote 
themselves to the service of the hospitals and the 
burial of the dead. The appearance of these pro- 
cessions is appalling; the persons who compose them, 
wear a kind of hood of linen, black or white, as the 
rest of their dress may be, and which falls down to 
their waists : it has large apertures for the mouth 
and eyes, so as to form a sort of mask ; their aspect 
suggests to those who see them for the first time, 
that it is a collection of spectres who are taking 
charge of the individual, who has just entered their 
ranks. The corpse is taken by them through the 
streets, exposed on a hearse, and carried to some 
church, where a mass being said over it, the sexton 
receives it into his possession, strips it naked, and 
buries it. Nothing can be more repulsive to unac- 
customed eyes, than this hideous contrast of ghastly 
death, with the gaudy trappings of dress. In Eng- 
land, according to the regulations of an ancient law, 
partly sumptuary and partly to encourage the woollen 



15 

trade, the body is always shrouded in woollen ; thus 
making even the dead contribute to the promotion of 
manufactures. A Neapolitan, on seeing one of these 
plain shrouds, would be shocked in turn, and ready to 
exclaim, with " poor Narcissa." 

" Odiou3 ! ia woollen p — 'T would a saint provoke." 

At Florence many corpses are taken to the Cathe- 
dral by the monks, to have the funeral service per- 
formed ; the churches in Italy are always open, and 
during a short residence in that city, I used to go 
every evening, towards the close of twilight, to take 
some turns in that vast and gloomy Cathedral, when 
a faint gleam was admitted through its elevated win- 
dows, barely sufficient with the aid of a few lights on 
one of the altars, to distinguish the columns and pro- 
minent objects of the interior. There seldom failed 
to enter one of these funeral processions, the monks 
beginning to chant the solemn de profundis, as soon 
as they crossed the threshold. Their torches flung a 
passing glare on the walls, the flash of which hardly 
reached the top of the immense dome which towered 
above them, like the lofty vault of some gigantic 
cavern. I used to follow them to one of the interior 
chapels, and when the service was over, with its last 
echoes in my ears, groped my way out of the church., 
and hurried to the opera house, only a few yards 
distant : the King of Etruria, then sovereign of Tus- 
cany, and his family, with all the brilliant society of 
the capital, were there assembled amidst a profusion of 



16 

lights and the sounds of animated music — for the jfirst 
moments after this transition, the songs of the opera 
did not exclusively occupy my meditations ; yet I 
would not have exchanged them for all the relish of 
the finest bravura. — But it is not aU^'ays necessary 
to cross the Atlantic, to witness striking contrasts 
between the gaiety and the inanity of life. A few 
years, since, particular reasons made it my duty to 
attend the funeral of a young and beautiful girl, who 
was remarkable for her blooming health. Slie had 
accepted an invitation to a splendid ball ; a sudden 
illness intervened — and on the evening it took place 
she was deposited in her grave. The tomb was 
under a church, the vault of which was lighted up 
for the occasion. I listened to the recital of the sub- 
lime and most affecting burial service over the body 
of this unfortunate young person, saw her deposited 
in the tomb among the mouldering coffins of her 
relatives ; and directly afterwards, went to the party, 
dazzling with lights and elegance, where her com- 
panions were leading down the dance ; not one of 
whom perhaps had so fair a chance of life, when 
the invitations were given, as this sweet young 
creature, who thus had been snatched from the midst 
of them. 

In visiting a cemetery one day, near a city in Italy, 
the sexton conducted me into a small building by 
its entrance, where the bodies of three or four chil- 
dren were lying on a platform. They were all very 
prettily dressed, and the head of each adorned with 



17 

a wreath of flowers. Ignorant of this custom, I 
believed them to be asleep ; and thinking it strange 
they should be in this situation, I started a little on 
approaching, and perceiving they were dead. The 
grave-digger asked me, if 1 was afraid of " questi 
angelini f " a delicacy of expression that struck me 
in one of his profession. They had been brought 
that morning, and with all the other corpses that 
might come in the course of the day, were to be 
stripped and then deposited in the same pit, whicii 
was not to be opened again till the expiration of 
a year. There is one for every day. 

An equal diversity prevails in the management and 
appearance of those enclosures, which protect our 
final quiet home. Those cemeteries where repose 
" the countless nations of the dead," are as unlike, 
as the dress and language of their tenants while 
living. In some, the ground is thickly studded with 
monumental stones, which vainly endeavour to pro- 
long the memory of those who have already mingled 
with the earth beneath ; while others show nothing 
but those slight svvelhngs of the surface, which, even 
in a desert, immediately indicate, that they cover a 
being who will disturb it no more. The Quakers, 
consistently, with their levelling policy, unwilling 
that human vanity should attempt by perishable dis- 
tinctions, to destroy that equality which death has 
produced, exclude monuments from their burying 
grounds. The Catholics generally do the same ; a 
cenotaph is placed in a church, where the deceased 



18 

is of high rank : but Protestants in most countries, 
give monuments of some kind to their friends and 
families : to the former tliis seems an idle vanit)^. 
When Buonaparte, in one of his early visits to Italy, 
first saw the English burial place* at Leghorn, which 
is filled with monuments, he exclaimed, " See those 
proud islanders, vain even in death." 

In some places the burial ground is never entered 
but by the sexton, with the funeral convoy, and the 
rank grass rustles unheard ; — in others, the sexton 
pastures a cow ; — what a practice, and what a perqui- 
site ! In some, the public pathway crosses the ground, 
that some steps may be saved in the brief bustle of 
the plodder who passes it, unheeding what he tram- 
ples on ; and vagrant boys are seen making the 
memorials of the dead serve the purposes of their idle 
play : in others, they form public walks, where chil- 
dren are carried for the air in the morning, and assig- 
nations are made for the evening. In some countries, 
the tomb once built, the task of vanity is discharged, 
and it is left to itself and to the injuries it may 
encounter ; — in others, affection supplies the place of 
a monument, by careful and repeated visits to the 
grave. At the great church of Rosschild, where lies 
" the majesty of buried Denmark," the sides of the 
church are in divisions, that might be chapels if they 
were not tombs ; where all the noble families of the 

♦ It is commonly called 90, as there are more of that natiou than of any other ; 
but its real appellation is ihe Protestant burying place ; because persons of that 
sect from all nations are buried in it. Tlipre ij one other devoted to the Jews, and 
one to the Catholicp. 



19 

kingdom have their deceased relatives deposited in 
coffins of brass and lead, with their gaudy coverings 
fallen into hideous ruin from damp and rottenness, and 
exposed to view through iron railings. In the 
churchyard and church, the graves of humbler indi- 
viduals are kept in the neatest order, and every 
Sunday their friends arrange them afresh, and place 
upon them bunches of flowers. Observing in the 
floor of this church, a stone covered with wreaths of 
flowers, I asked the sexton, what person had been 
just buried there. " O, sir, that was the wife of our 
pastor : she has been dead several years, but she 
was very much beloved, and some of the parishioners 
bring fresh wreaths of flowers every Sunday, and 
every one takes care not to walk on them." A grave 
in the yard, which was very carefully kept, and on 
which two or three bunches of flowers were sticking, 
he said was preserved in that state by the children 
of a parent, who had been buried there many years 
before. These affectionate demonstrations of remem- 
brance, may recall to mind the interesting anecdote 
which the ancients have related concerning the origin 
of the Corinthian order. The mother or nurse 
lamenting the death of a young girl, placed on her 
grave a basket, containing her toys and playthings, 
covered with a tile. It chanced to be placed on a 
root of the acanthus : the leaves of the plant grow- 
ing up around it, and obstructed by the tile, were 
bent over, so as to form very nearly the appearance 
of the Corinthian capital Calliraachus happened to 



20 

see it, took the hint, and formed the Corinthian col- 
umn, the most elegant of the orders. 

There is one inconvenience attending the ceme- 
teries of cities, which all mankind naturally revolt at, 
and which draws from every one, the imprecation con- 
tained in Shakspeare's epitaph ; — tiiey must in time 
become so heaped uj) with the spoils of mortality, as to 
require removal to prevent pestilence. The most re- 
markable instance of this exhumation took place in 
Paris, and several years were occupied in the task, 
which was performed without being generally known 
to the public. It was commenced previous to the 
Revolution, but the operation continued under all its 
political changes. The immense collection of bones, 
which had accumulated in the burial grounds of that 
great city during the course of centuries, were 
thrown into the quarries which are near and partly 
under it. These excavations are commonly about 
one hundred feet below the surface, and may now, 
like the subterranean galleries and quarries of Rome 
and Naples, be called catacombs. The fancy of the 
French has, however, exerted itself to produce the 
most singular exhibition in the world, consisting of a 
variety of ornamental objects, which were never be- 
fore formed of similar materials. These bones have 
been piled up in various forms, such as obelisks, co- 
lumns, pyramids, &c. ; various inscriptions are scat- 
tered about, and with the aid of torch-light, the in- 
habitant of this living world walks through exten- 
sive galleries and chambers, surrounded by the re- 



21 

mains of countless thousands. In a few minutes he 
may pass from the bustle, the frivolity, the gayety, of 
a brilliant capital, to the caverns beneath it, filled 
with the relicks of those who in their time also 
" played many parts ;" and the mementos are innu- 
merable, to enable the philosophic speculator, after a 
visit to these regions of the dead, to assure those he 
has left that " let them paint an inch thick, to this 
complexion they must come at last." 

To return from this disgression. When our ances- 
tors first landed in this country, their numbers were 
so few, that the death of an individual was like a loss 
in a family: the decease of one of their number was 
a common concern ; it made the loneliness of their 
situation still more apparent, and naturally carried 
their thoughts back to the country and friends 
they had left, the recollection of whom often filled 
their minds with sorrow, in spite of their heroic con- 
stancy ; these tender recollections came over them 
with accumulated force, when one of their little band 
was taken away. The death of an individual, was 
one of the most interesting events that could happen 
to them, and the funeral of the deceased was attended 
as a solemn duty by all, when all participated in the 
bereavement. 

There was another motive that produced this 
general attendance ; this colony was a religious one, 
founded expressly for religious purposes ; a funeral 
was an occasion when religious feelings and impres- 
sions could be most strongly produced. The precari- 



22 

oils tenure of our existence, which was then so strik- 
ingly obvious, was made use of for the purpose of 
exhortation, to devote themselves to the constant con- 
sideration of their future state, and to give themselves 
exclusively to the service of God, whose worship 
after the dictates of their own conscience, was the 
cause of their expatriation. A funeral was therefore 
a religious observance which none could neglect. 

Our ancestors had left a country they loved, to 
encounter the unknown horrors of exile in a new and 
distant land. Their minds were elevated to a high 
pitch of steady enthusiasm, which could alone have 
supported them, under the difficulties and dangers 
they were exposed to. By such men, all the ener- 
vating emotions of grief and despondency were dis- 
countenanced. A stoical disregard of common suf- 
ferings, and of tender feelings, was a practice of re- 
ligious duty. The nourishing of grief and the indul- 
gence of excess in sensibility, were frowned at ; a 
submission to the Divine will, and a subjection of all 
their passions to a rigid discipline, was constantly in- 
culcated. Parents were called upon to yield their 
children, wives their husbands, and children theiv 
parents, without a murmur. All the dearest relations 
were habituated to attend the obsequies of their de- 
ceased relatives, and follow them to the grave. 
Thence arose the practice, that even the nearest rela- 
tions, in the deepest moments of affliction, followed 
their friends to their last home. It was expected that 
a mother should see her beloved child, or the dear 



23 

partner of her life, deposited in the grave, with pious 
resignation, and witness that agonizing ceremony, 
while listening with indescribable horror to the 
sound of the earth falling on the coffin of the most 
beloved object of her heart. 

This fashion continued when the original purpose, 
or motive, had ceased, and when the sternness and 
austerity of their manners and habits no longer ex- 
isted, so as to afford them any particular gratification 
in the practice of it. In the course of time, too. 
as their numbers increased, and a diversity of inter- 
ests prevailed, the unity of their social state was bro- 
ken up, and the sort of sympathy, which had existed 
in a small community, diminished. The forms, how- 
ever, continued, and the processions lengthened, till at 
last they were composed of very incongruous materi- 
als ; of a few wretched sufferers, who followed the 
hearse with eyes blinded with weeping, and faltering 
steps, and with a long train of others, who were per- 
forming with indifference or unwillingness an irksome 
duty. This mode of funerals continued till its incon- 
veniences reached their height. A few years since, 
the procession was made as long as possible ; the re- 
latives, male and female, all walked ; the acquaint- 
ances of both sexes followed, and a train of carria- 
ges, generally empty, brought up the rear ; the bells 
were all tolling, and not, as now, at intervals, but 
without ceasing ; so that the original purpose of this 
ceremony of tolling the bells, which was to keep the 
devil from coming within the sound of them, to annoy 



24 

the dead, was very etfectually answered. It was 
considered a mark of sympathy, and called for by de- 
corum, to walk, however bad the weather or the 
walking miiiht be. Few more effectual modes could 
be devised, for laying the foundation of a new fune- 
ral. This bringing together crowds of indifferent peo- 
ple, produced nothing but the grimace of solemnity ; 
and the scene so admirably described at the funeral 
of Mrs. Margaret Bertram of Singleside, in Guy 
Mannering, had here many prototypes. 

The inconvenience began to be gradually remedied : 
the bells ceased their incessant clattering, and were 
struck only at intervals ; * the nearest relations, 
females at least, were excused from going to the 
grave ; no females walked, and in many cases there 
was no procession on foot. The desire of a long 
procession begins to be less an object of pride ; and 
the vanity of a " grand burying'''^ is becoming more 
and more confined to " people of colour." A 
few individuals have dispensed with public proces- 
sions, in the case of any of their families. The de- 
cease of an individual is announced in the papers, for 
the information of acquaintances, but the funeral ob- 
sequies are private, and the ceremonies are fulfilled 
by the kindness of half a dozen, intimate, sympathiz- 
ing friends. This practice will gradually become 
universal. The useless cruelty of forcing agonized 
hearts to follow to the grave ; the unfeeling indecorum, 
which requires a display of their anguish to the gaze 

• The tolling of bells is sincp entirply srivcn up in Boston 



I 



25 

of the public, and the collecting a crowd of indifter- 
ent people to go though a useless ceremony with re- 
luctance, will all be obviated. A great deal of idle 
expense will be saved, and often to those who can ill 
afford it. This last consideration should weigh with 
persons by whom expense will not be felt, to make 
retrenchment in the practice of the most superfluous of 
all vanities, that others may follow their example, and 
not waste in burying the dead, what is wanted for 
the subsistence of the livins:. 

Our burial grounds in large towns throughout the 
United States are too much crowded, and too much 
neglected. They have a desolate look of abandon- 
ment. At New-Haven there is one on a better plan, 
and which forms an interesting object. A reform in 
our cemeteries would be honourable to public feeling. 
An ample piece of ground selected in the vicinity of 
large towns, from land which would be of little value 
for any thing else, should be devoted to this purpose^ 
It would be easy, without great expense, to give the 
walls and entrance an appropriate appearance. The 
yew, the willow, and other funereal trees, would 
form suitable ornaments within. A sufficient space 
might be allowed to different families to decorate as 
they choose, and where their remains would repose 
for ages untouched. A certain degree of care should 
be bestowed in keeping the enclosure and its alleys 
in a state of neatness, which would seem a decent 
remembrance of the dead. Such a cemeterv would 
be an interesting spot to visit ; and when dispirited 

\ 



26 

by uiikindness, misfortune, or that listless satiety, 
that makes life insipid, a walk among the graves of 
our friends might sooth the mind into composure 
with this evanescent scene ; make it look forward 
with calmness, if not complacency, to the time when 
we shall be re-united to those we have lost ; when 
we too shall be, where " the wicked cease from 
troubling, and the weary are at rest." 



LETTER II 



POLITICS. 



My dear sir, 

Though we have worn different cockades, and 
marched in separate columns, our ultimate views have 
terminated in the same point — the happiness and solid 
glory of our country. If our prejudices have led us 
to sympathize with particular individuals, we have 
not felt the less contempt for the mere " drummers 
and trumpeters of faction ;" nor been blind to the 
obliquities in the political course of those, with whom 
we were enlisted. Local circumstances may have 
given a different appearance to our opinions, as it has 
to our dress ; but this very variety was adopted to 
preserve comfort and health in the latter, and con- 
sistency in the former. We may differ about details, 



27 

or the merits of this or that individual ; but in most 
of the essential points of policy we have fully agreed ; 
and during the present political truce we may take a 
retrospect of the past, with so much more candour, as 
in the future combination of parties, whenever the strife 
is renewed, the personnel will be different, though the 
materiel may be the same. 

It is as easy to imagine a river without banks, as a 
free government without parties. Without the one 
and the other, the current would be stopped in both, 
and both become stagnant. Parties which tend to 
preserve the constitution in a sound and vigorous 
state, may sometimes, by intemperance and diseased 
action, cause its destruction. Every man who is not 
a visionary, knows, that their existence is at once 
inevitable and indispensible ; but all enlightened and 
independent minds will be careful not to identify 
them with their country. They will consider them 
as the means through which that country may be 
served, yet will not confound the means with the end. 
In extreme cases the one must be abandoned to pre- 
serve the other ; and so long as a people continue 
intelligent and virtuous, they will not be doubtful 
which is to be sacrificed. 

Every man who has had much party experience, 
must sometimes be disgusted with the tools he is 
obliged to use, and tired of the course he is impelled to 
pursue. The opinion of one of the most thorough par- 
tisans of modern times, whose political writings are as 
clear and correct, as his philosophical ones are obscure 
and false — I mean Lord Bolingbroke — may be cited as 



2^ 

an authoritj ex cathedra : "A man who has not seen 
" the inside of parties, nor had opportunities to examine 
" nearly their secret motives, can hardly conceive how 
" little a share principle of any sort, though principle 
" of some sort or other be always pretended, has in 
" the determination of their conduct. Reason has 
" small effect on numbers. A turn of imagination, 
" often as violent and as sudden as a gust of wind, 
" determines their conduct ; and passion is taken by 
" others, and by themselves too, when it grows into 
" habit especially, for principle." 

It is very injurious to a party to remain for a long 
period in opposition, since they will, in the course of 
it, inevitably fall into relaxation or inconsistency ; and 
their adherents are lost by the one, and disgraced by 
the other. A party, on the contrary, in possession of 
power, however mean may have been their origin, 
gradually increase in strength and respectability, till 
a vast majority of the nation is on their side ; and 
then presumption or false views commonly occasion 
their ruin. These remarks are certainly applicable 
to the two great parties in the United States. The 
federalists showed too much presumption from having 
founded the constitution, and from having so many 
illustrious men among them. Your friends began 
their career with no great stock of character in some 
sections ; and sacrificed for a time the vital interests 
of the nation, to the acquisition of popularity. Their 
numbers increased first by intriguers, then by the in- 
different ; till at last, in some of the states, there was 
not a private or a subaltern left on the opposite side. 



29 

The force of circumstances, and the very possession 
of power, obliged them to adopt sound measures of 
policy, and to promote those very objects for whose 
destruction they came into office. Their opponents 
gradually went over to them, and the federal party 
would have become even sooner extinct, if considera- 
tions of local policy in particular states had not still 
maintained the name, as a matter of convenience. 

This cessation of party at intervals, must inevita- 
bly take place, from the nature of our political system. 
An occasional fallow in the field of politics affords 
a fertilizing repose ; it prevents the rank growth of 
party from exhausting the soil of patriotism. That 
there will always be materials for opposition, follows 
of course ; but a continuity of opposition in any one 
body of men is impossible. Perhaps the revolution 
of parties may be calculated hereafter with as much 
precision as the return of comets ; but we have not 
sufficient experience now to fix their periods. The 
first party was undermined at the end of twelve 
years ; yet this was effected by a most skilful states- 
man, singularly qualified for the task ; and even he 
would not have succeeded at the time, if he had not 
been aided by the contagious violence of the French 
Revolution. The process, whenever it is attempted, 
will be nearly the same ; the cry will be economy, 
&c. &c. ; but there is so little of mere populace in 
our country, that so long as the administration pre- 
serve a due share of discretion in the management of 
affairs, the operation of subverting them will be slow. 
How long the present succession of things may last, 



it is, impossible to say ; but a complete revolution in 
the cabinet must bo more and more difficult to accom- 
plish. The old or federal oppositionists have become 
the supporters of the administration, though neither 
officially nor officiously. They had nothing to op- 
pose — their occupation is gone. The party in power 
has come back to the true interests and principles of 
the government. Such will be the routine- Ambitious 
individuals create a party ; and aided by circumstan- 
ces, are borne into power through popular caprice or 
delusion. They put the safety of the nation in jeop- 
ardy to maintain this delusion. After becoming fixed 
in their seats, they find it necessary to guide the car 
of state into the beaten road, to prevent its destruc- 
tion. Those who opposed them are then tranquilliz- 
ed, caring little who holds the reins, if they are pro- 
ceeding in the right road. Parties are amalgamated; 
and aspiring politicians commence a fresh division. 

From looking at the machinery of English politics, 
some persons have had the idea of such a regular 
opposition here, as exists there, without considering 
the radical difference between our political systems. 
The opposition in England has a sort of hereditary 
permanency. It is an imion of the aristocracy and 
democracy against the crown. Several of the great 
families of that kingdom, from aristocratic pride, and 
disdaining to ask favours, which their rank and for- 
tune make them careless about ; keep aloof from the 
government, though not always engaged in active 
opposition. Their immense landed property gives 
them the control of several boroughs, for which they 



31 

return to the house of commons their sons or connex- 
ions. There are, besides, the rotten boroughs, for 
which a seat is purchased, that enables a statesman, 
however unpopular, to continue in parliament. Two 
or three cities, besides, where the lower class of citi- 
zens have a vote, return representatives who com- 
monly join this party, because they are too few to 
act by themselves. The party thus composed, is 
generally a minority of one-fifth or one-sixtii of the 
lower house, and called the whig party ; — their foun- 
dation is in the aristocracy. They are, as Burke said 
of himself, when he belonged to them, nailed to the 
north wall of opposition., and maintain a regular sys- 
tem of attack against every measure of the ministry ; 
of course they are wrong the greater part of the time, 
and are often opposed to the opinion of the nation. At 
distant intervals they are forced by circumstances on 
the king, who never receives them cordially, or retains 
them long. Now what similarity is there between this 
opposition, and an opposition in this country ? We 
have no hereditary senators, who can follow their 
own sentiments, regardless of the feelings of the 
nation ; we have no boroughs which we can buy to 
place us in congress ; opposition therefore cannot be 
continued in this country to men, when measures are 
satisfactory. If Mr. Burke lost his election for Bristol, 
he might still have a seat in parliament for Old Sarum 
or St. Germains. When Mr. Ames lost the election 
in his county of Norfolk, he could no longer remain 
in the house of representatives. Public sentiment 



32 

cannot be made to adopt individual prejudices and 
animosities for a long time ; when the people gener- 
ally are satisfied with the course pursued by the 
administration, they will elect men who will harmo- 
nize with it. Principles, not Men, is essentially 
the maxim of our political system. There is in this 
country no foundation for supporting a permanent 
party in opposition, any more than a permanent party 
in power. 

The federal party has in fact'been extinct for some 
time. You will excuse me for dwelling at all on so 
obvious a truth, because a number of demagogues 
here have a lively interest in maintaining the contrary, 
as it gives them a pretension to that exclusive favour 
at Washington, which they would else be without. 
We also see occasionally some people at the south, 
beating the air with the cry of federalism, probably 
from habit. If the majority of people in the state of 
Maryland do not choose to be governed by the ban- 
ditti of Baltimore ; or in Massachusetts, are unwill- 
ing to displace a gallant, revolutionary patriot, against 
whom no shadow of reproach can be cast ; and if 
these people are called Federalists, it is still idle to 
talk of the Federal party. In some states it had never 
any existence at all, and in many others has long 
ceased from any exertion. As its extinction was 
announced by no formal act, it cannot be dated ex- 
actly : it may be said to have terminated when the 
late war commenced, though an opportunity was then 
furnished it for renewal, which was lost, perhaps 



33 

fortunately so ; or at least it expired with the termi- 
nation of that war, and since the last presidential elec- 
tion, not a trace of it as a national party can be found. 
This party will have justice done to it by posterity. 
Its services or its errors, I neither wish to magnify 
nor extenuate. When contemporary partialities and 
enmities shall be forgotten, it will be considered one 
of the most illustrious combinations to be found in the 
annals of freedom. But this is not the time to write 
its history ; there are too many yet alive, to borrow 
a figure of Mr. Grattan's, " who have sat by its cradle, 
and who have followed its hearse." Called into exist" 
ence to administer and support that glorious constitu- 
tion, which the wisdom of the states had adopted, it 
commenced its career with the purest feelings of 
patriotism. The nation held in pledge for an upright 
management of its affairs, the noblest reputation which 
modern times have known. Almost all the survivors 
of the revolutionary struggle, who had been eminent 
in the council or the field, were to be found in its 
ranks, and they who had achieved the independence 
of their country, were called upon to preserve it. 
Surrounded with difficulties in the outset, struggling 
against the undisguised ill will of one nation^ and the 
insidious friendship of another ; they had all the 
departments of the public service to create, and at 
the same time to adjust the machinery of a new go- 
vernment, for a young, restless, and expanding nation. 
Envy, jealousy, and ambition were soon busily em- 
ployed to impede their progress, misrepresent their 

o 



34 

actions, and exaggerate their errors. The universal 
phrenzy of the French Revolution brought timely 
aid to their exertions ; men's minds became so excit- 
ed by the electric state of the times, that all sober 
Judgment was prevented, and passion decided on the 
results of calculation. Fortunately it withstood the 
torrent long enough to save the nation from the in- 
calculable evils of an alliance with revolutionary 
Europe ; in whose vortex, if we had once been in- 
volved, we should, when the whirlpool had subsided, 
like some others, have disappeared altogether, or have 
risen to the surface disfigured, disgraced, and mutilat- 
ed. 

When this party was thrown out of power, its con- 
duct in opposition, with very few exceptions, added 
new dignity to its former character. Exposed to a 
proscription the most universal, it received the assur- 
ance that there was no hope for personal ambition in 
its ranks, conveyed in the remarkable complimentj 
that the time did not exist when it could only be in- 
quired respecting a candidate for office, " Is he 
honest ? is he capable ? is he attached to the consti- 
tution ?" Yet with true magnanimity, they struggled 
hard to defend, for the interests of the nation, those 
institutions from which they were precluded, against 
the short-sightedness, bigotry, and zeal of an increas- 
ing, angry, intolerant party. They strove to preserve 
the edifices from which they had been driven, and to 
keep those who were in possession, from devastating 
and destroying them. Their efforts were not wholly 
unavailing ; the army, navy, finance, judiciary, all 



35 

suffered dilapidation, and the nation enormous loss 
and subsequent mischief; but the foundations remain- 
ed ; and after a period, when some very poignant 
lessons had been inflicted by events, those who had 
exulted in the demolition, began to assist in their re- 
construction. 

As soon as this process commenced, their existence 
was superfluous ; their task was completed, when the 
party in power ceased from the destruction of the 
federal government, and began to restore the original 
principles of action and means of security, for which 
this government had been adopted by the nation. 
Federalism was no longer a distinction, when anti- 
federalism was extinct, any more than republicanism 
is, where there are no opposers of it. Nine hundred 
and ninety-nine in every thousand in the United 
States, are republicans from predilection and from 
principle. Parties must invent new names for their 
watchword ; we are now " all republicans, all feder- 
alists." No man will lift a finger against the consti- 
tuent principles of both these parties. Dispassionate 
and patriotic minds in the federal ranks welcomed 
this state of things; which prevented the ultimate 
deterioration of a party, whose general career had 
been useful, dignified, and unpopular. The limits of 
this party had been constantly narrowing ; its con- 
nexion and concert more and more broken ; its cha- 
racter as a national party was shrinking into the con- 
fined policy of state politics ; its Catholic principles 
falling into the narrowness of sectarianism. There 



36 

loiiser a communication between distant 
points, and no plan of action, (the results of informa- 
tion and compromise from various quarters,) all gene- 
ral views were lost, and general sympathy of course 
destroyed. From the substitution of local passions 
and prejudices for a wider system and more enlarged 
views, this inevitable consequence ensued — that every 
one out of the coteries existing here and there, was 
dissatisfied, disgusted and injured by the pursuit of 
measures which he disapproved, or tenets he denied. 
Great numbers were therefore rejoiced when circum- 
stances permitted the disbanding of a force, that had 
been originally guided in its career by the noblest 
principles ; but which, having lost many of its most 
distinguished leaders, being extremely incomplete in 
many of its divisions, was now led at times by subal- 
terns without concert ; and had fallen so much from 
discipline, that a mere trumpeter would sometimes 
undertake to sound a charge, that might produce a 
serious check to one of the wings, or a disgraceful 
defeat to the whole body. 

That all the measures of this party were wise, or 
the opinions of all its members sound, no one will 
pretend ; that the one and the other generally merited 
this character, no one but the veriest bigot will ven- 
ture to deny. Commencing the operations of a go- 
vernment without precedents to consult, or chart to 
direct, and at a time when political society was every 
Avhere in a state of fermentation, it was impossible 
that some errors should not have taken place ; yet in 



37 

reviewing all the circumstances, it is astonishing that 
they were so few. These few, however, together 
with the foppery and extravagance of individual sen^ 
timents, sometimes produced in the wantonness of 
sport, and at others in a moment of irritation, were 
taken as the standard of their conduct. Posterity, 
at least, will listen to an appeal from this rule of 
Judgment ; for to quote again from Bolingbroke, 
" It would he hard indeed if parties were to be cha- 
racterized, not by their common views, or the general 
tenour of their conduct, but by the private views im- 
puted to some among them, or by the particular 
sallies into which mistake, surprise, or passion, hath 
sometimes betrayed the best intentioned, and even 
the best conducted bodies of men." 

I have spoken of the federal party generally, as a 
natural introduction to some remarks upon the por- 
tion of it in Massachusetts, which were the main pur- 
pose of this letter. 1 think, when you are acquaint- 
ed with the peculiar situation, in which the present 
ruling party in this state, one of the chief fragments 
of the federal party, has been placed, that you will 
admit there is some apology for their recent opposi- 
tion. Calumny and misrepresentation have been so 
widely and steadily disseminated, that the n^ost out- 
rageous prejudices have been excited in other parts 
of the country ; and many have condemned them for 
their violence, without any idea of the provocation 
they had received. Very extensive mischief, if it be 
mischief to create animosity between different sec- 



38 

tions of the couniiy, has been effected by j>onie of tii« 
journals at the south, and by other publications indus- 
triously distributed. One of the most bulky of these 
may he cited as a specimen. An octavo volume, com- 
piled by an Irish bookseller in Philadelphia, has, if the 
title page may be believed, gone through a dozen edi- 
tions : patriotism and profit are both served by the 
sale of the work, which is entitled, *' The Olive 
Branch, or faults on both sides :" — under this pretty 
name, parties are to be reconciled and diiferences heal- 
ed, by a candid exhibition of mutual errors. What is 
the performance ? — Passing over the dulness of a 
parcel of extracts from old newspapers, it has selected, 
with a delicacy and tenderness truly affectionate, a few 
prominent blunders on one side, which are narrated 
with the tone of a friend : but from the other, the 
strongest passages in remonstrances against particular 
measures ; the violences of newspaper paragraphs, in 
the highest moments of irritation ; the ebullitions of 
declaimers, Avhose infirmities of temper may have led 
them in moments of excitement into extravagance ; 
the most inflammatory things that can be found 
among insulated speeches, sermons and gazettes, for a 
series of years, when the highest political ferment ex- 
isted ; all these are brought together in the spirit of an 
enemy, as a regular plan, a continued system of incon- 
sistency, discord and faction. This is about as fair, 
as it would be to make extracts from the bills of mor- 
tality in Philadelphia, during the most fatal season of 
the yellow fever, and from those of Boston in a 



39 

healthy summer, and give them as a true specimen ol 
the salubrity of the two cities. 

A more malignant design could hardly have been 
Imagined ; though a smile is excited by a certain na- 
tional raciness in the title of this book, which should 
have been, The torch of Alecto, or perpetual rancour 
and animosity. A work, indeed, of the kind to 
which this makes a hypocritical pretence, might be- 
come a text book of permanent utility, to teach poli- 
tical morality and wisdom to future statesmen ; but 
it must not be the paltry impulse of party, or pecuni- 
ary thrift, that should guide its author. Who is there 
to undertake such a work ? Who is there with suffi- 
cient sagacity and knowledge for the task, and, at 
the same time, sufficient independence of his own 
times ? Such a man must not have any expectation 
either from the people or their delegates ; he must 
fear neither the senate nor the tribunes ; he must tell 
Caesar that his ambition will lead him and his country 
to destruction ; he must let Antony know that his 
profligate habits destroy the confidence which his 
courage, his talents and address would inspire ; and 
he must — yet harder task — inform Cato that his vani- 
ty, his rudeness, and his confounding personal ani- 
mosities with public principles, destroy all the advan- 
tages which his country might derive from his expe- 
rience and integrity. 

There is much dissimilarity in the character of 
those, who compose the parties that bear the same 
name, in different parts of the country. The causes 



4U 

of this discrepancy it is not my purpose to investi- 
gate ; nor do I intend to sketch the history of tlie de- 
mocratic party among us ; I might be a prejudiced 
historian. You can judge of its general character, 
from the individuals you have seen. Candid men on 
that side are always willing to admit, that their party 
is not composed, in this quarter, of exactly such ma- 
terials as they could wish. There are able and re- 
spectable men belonging to it, and there are among 
them many veterans of tlie revolution ; because they 
were led to think, that they were the exclusive friends 
of that event. In point of numbers, it has varied at 
certain periods ; but those who pretend to exclusive 
patriotism, always find followers : it has always been 
considerable in this respect; in others, its relative stand- 
ing has been very different. My chief object is to show 
you the position of the majority here, and while I 
hope you will allow that there is some apology for 
the violence of their recent opposition, I shall speak 
of the course they pursued, with freedom, and I trust 
with impartiality. 

The federalists in Massachusetts have frequently, 
not only by popular election, but by executive ap- 
pointments, placed their opponents in places of profit, 
when it was an office they had before held, and in 
some instances appointed them to new ones; and 
very rarely has any person in any civil trust, been 
turned out by them from political considerations. 
The feelings of their antagonists were not to be 
touched by any generous actions : their accession to 



41 

power was like the iiiuption of a savage foe; every 
body was proscribed ; integrity and length of service 
were nothing. This proscription, which only oc- 
casioned some individual distress, was of compara- 
tively trifling importance. They attempted to 
destroy all freedom of opinion, and the very founda- 
tion of republicanism, by a tyrannical regulation of 
the banking system. The charters of the banks 
when about expiring, were to be refused a renewal. 
A new banki with a very large capital, was incor- 
porated, to which no man was to be admitted to become 
a subscriber, unless he had certain party qualifications : 
and to perpetuate power thus uprightly used, the 
ancient landmarks of the state were removed, and the 
surface broken into new divisions, to secure majori- 
ties ; which formed such strange portentous shapes in 
topography, that a new term was invented to express 
the operation. 

One powerful source of misrepresentation, and, 
strange as it may seem, of delusion, is the imputation 
of a love of aristocracy, royalty, monarchy, and the 
whole train of similar hobgoblins, which are success- 
fully used to frighten babes in the democratic nursery. 
Preposterous as this may appear to you, there are 
men full grown, who can read and write, and are 
allowed to vote, who believe this ; and the sly knaves 
who inculcate it are able, from habit, to keep their 
countenance while they are telling the story. Now, 
to an European, who knows of what stuff kings and 
courtiers are made, this would be indescribably ludic- 
6 



42 

lous, and his couitiy arrogance would lead him to say, 
with Sancho, " You cannot make a silk purse from a 
sow*s-ear ;" but to those who have never seen royalty, 
and its appendages, it is only absurd. The truth is, 
that the people of these states are all essentially, 
democratic republicans, in their civil and political 
code, their religion, education, laws respecting pro- 
perty, habits, prejudices, every thing. Even those 
who from mere wantonness and foppery talk lightly 
of republicanism, are all republicans in grain, and 
inveterately so. To make a monar<>hy here, would 
even be more impracticable than to make a republic in 
France ; — this character indeed is not new to them ; 
— their ancestors left England republicans two cen- 
turies ago ; — their republicanism has been rendered 
more perfect of late years. There was remaining, 
down to a recent period, some tinge of distinction in 
ranks, which was a slight remnant of the colonial 
state ; this has been quite obliterated. Honesty, in- 
tegrity, and intelligence are the only questions asked, 
and you might have seen, among the members of 
the Massachusetts legislature, when it lately obtain- 
ed such a cumbrous size, not only merchants, lawyers, 
physicians, and farmers, but shoemakers, carpenters, 
painters, blacksmiths, masons, printers, &c. I do 
not mean that they took the labourers from the work- 
shops, because the wages of a legislator would not 
support a man, and a journeyman could not afford to 
serve ; but men who were or had been masters of 



43 

these trades themselves, did their duty in the legisla- 
ture, and discharged it reputably. , 

Nor, to do the federalists justice, can it be denied 
. — whether it does them honour, is another question 
— that they have other marked traits of democracy. 
The parsimony in rewarding public services, the fear 
of losing popularity, the contumelious treatment of all 
those in power who were not placed there by them» 
selves, the ceaseless jealousy with which the actions 
of all such obnoxious persons were watched ; adopting 
the most uncandid construction that could be put on 
every measure in the midst of difficulties ; condemna- 
tion for what was done, and for what was left un- 
done : if all these will establish our claims to a full 
share of the democratic spirit, we have waggon-loads 
of vouchers. 

When the national administration had been transfer- 
red — ^as soon as conflicting claims had been settled — 
a general proscription was carried into effect ; all the 
old servants of the public were turned out, to reward 
those who had laboured so assiduously for theif 
places. Neither revolutionary services, upright con- 
duct, and faithful discharge of trust, nor the negative 
praise of inoffensiveness, much less the distress it 
might occasion the incumbent, were to be regarded. 
A general clearing was the consequence, so that only 
one or two standards remained. Indeed, at the mo- 
ment, I only recollect one, the veteran General Lin- 
coln, one of those fine specimens of calm intrepidity ; 
courtesy, simplicity and integrity, that ennoble the 



44 

military career, and form its heau ideal. You will 
excuse my throwing this poor flower in passing, on 
his grave over which his country has not yet found 
time to erect a monument. 

The federalists, it is well known, grumbled and 
railed most stoutly at this process ; but from its very 
nature it was soon completed ; the new officers did 
their duty, and the murmurs gradually died away. 
They submitted so completely to this system, that 
tli«y entirely gave up all ideas of being employed in 
the public service ; and no claim on account of ser- 
vices rendered, of talents or peculiar fitness for office, 
would have been considered worth urging in favour 
of any one belonging to this party, however moderate 
he might be in his political character. At least nine- 
tenths of those, whose talents or education made 
them suitable for any kind, even the humblest, of 
public employments, thus found themselves rigidly ex~ 
eluded in favour of the small minority that was left. 

This would at last have been considered a matter 
of course, and opposition would have in time wholly 
subsided, if the administration at Washington had 
not thought it necessary, and doubtless for a period it 
was so ; to use their constant effi)rts to place their 
partisans, already basking in the sunshine of national 
favour, in the control of the state governments ; and 
we have seen that their conduct in them was such, as 
to excite the opposition of every man who felt any 
interest in the dignity or prosperity of these govern- 
ments. The federalists, therefore, in this and the 



45 

bordering states, were forced, from the most obvibus 
principles of self-preservation, to continue an opposi- 
tion, not so much to the federal government, as to a 
faction within themselves, enjoying the protection of 
that government ; without which it would have been 
powerless and insignificant. 

Thus they went on, struggling annually to main- 
tain their share in the state administrations, and to 
prevent, as they believed, the subversion of that 
system of local policy relating to the judiciary, the 
support of education, religion, and various public 
institutions to which they were attached. These 
fears were doubtless excessive as to the ultimate 
degree of mischief that would have been done, be- 
cause the good sense of the citizens, deluded as they 
might be for a time, would not keep any party long 
enough in power to consummate the work : but that 
they were not wholly groundless, the open threats 
and overt acts of this party had given full assurance. 
This was the situation of things between the federa- 
lists in these states and the administration, dowji to 
the commencement of the late war. 

This was a moment when, if conciliation had been 
possible, it would have been followed with the most 
glorious consequences. Whether one, or both sides, 
or neither, were to blame for its not taking place, I 
do not pretend to decide, but their common country 
was the victim. There was one transaction at this 
period, which has left an indelible stain on its authors. 
One of the most wretched and insignificant of all in- 



46 

triguers, worthily seconded by a base, foreign swind- 
ler, went to Washington, and there revealed certain 
portentous secrets to the president. While many an 
honest claimant was pining in delay of justice by a 
scrupulous treasury ; while many an important fortress 
was without a gun for its defence, these glorious 
secrets were eagerly bought for fifty thousand dollars. 
As they contained only some silly, abortive intrigues 
of an English colonial governor, they seemed of little 
value in the list of grievances for a declaration of 
war, where so many very substantial ones existed ; 
and as the most malignant interpretation could im- 
plicate no citizen with connivance, if it had been 
thought worth while to make use of them against the 
enemy, a fine opportunity was offered for a magnani- 
mous exoneration of our own citizens, from all sus- 
picion of yielding to these sinister intrigues. What 
was the course pursued ? — I will not trust myself to 
characterize it ; public sentiment has pronounced on 
the subject ; but the impolicy was flagrant, that at- 
tempted to stigmatize with infamy all the leading 
men in a powerful section of the country, on the eve 
of a war, which demanded for its successful termina- 
tion, the whole energy of a united nation. Is there 
miy person who can wonder that men who had a 
spark of honour or integrity remaining, should hurl 
defiance at an administration, which sought to blast 
them with insinuations of the most despicable treason ? 
When the war commenced, numerous appointments 
were to be made ; many of these were of a descrip- 



tion to need a high, elevated, galhmt feeling, and 
afforded another opening for reconciliation, by calling 
on all classes for the public defence. Was there any 
instance, in this part of the country, where a man's 
party qualifications were disregarded ? Could any 
man obtain leave to shed his blood for his country, 
even if his father had done so before him, unless he 
carried a recommendation from those, who had so 
fatally persuaded the administration to abandon this 
important section of the Union to their control ? In 
other states there were some very notorious federalists 
who received military appointments, but here an in- 
veterate hostility doomed them to inaction. If the 
case were reversed, do you think that your friends 
and neighbours would tamely endure this most gall- 
ing kind of outlawry ? 

I trust to your forbearance for one word more of 
reproach against your friends. The most extensive 
mischief has resulted, from the administration so 
pertinaciously making a privileged pet of the demo- 
cratic party among us, which in this case, as in most 
others of perverse fondness, had neither the graces 
of mind nor body to excuse the caprice. The whole 
interior management in this quarter during the war, 
left the majority of the state in some doubt, whether 
their destruction, or that of the enemy, was the fa- 
vourite object. Certain it is, that much more serious 
injury might have been done to the latter, if hatred 
against the former had been less active, or only been 
postponed. Essential measures were defeated through 



48 

tiie desire to mortify and degrade those, wlio iiekl the 
military and civil command of the state. It would 
be too repulsive a task to go into details, but such 
was the fact. Whenever the situation in which the 
government of Massachusetts was unfortunately pla- 
ced, shall be fairly and fully investigated, men of 
honourable feelings and impartial minds, though they 
may be of opposite political sentiments, will allow 
that there was much excuse for the heated and disas- 
trous opposition, the state was almost obliged to 
sustain. Its services, means, exertions, were all en- 
gaged in the public defence, and might have been 
rendered much more effective, if a course had not 
been pursued, which was useless for every purpose, 
but to gratify the malignant feelings of a local fac- 
tion. 

Having thus mentioned to you a few circumstan- 
ces, to show how the ruling party here were forced, 
driven, goaded into a continued opposition to the na- 
tional government ; which was, notwithstanding, 
founded on considerations of local policy, and directed 
more against a domestic faction among themselves, 
than against the general administration ; I trust the 
statement, which might have been enlarged with 
many emphatic details, will have some weight in 
your mind, to excuse the violence of that opposition ; 
on which I now proceed to comment with the same 
freedom, that I have spoken of the injurious policy 
exercised towards it. In all these remarks, I consider 
the administration and the opposition of that period 



49 

as both extinct ; and that we are reviewing their con- 
duct as an affair of history — though of history too 
recent, it must be owned, to expect perfect impartia- 
lity. 

I have before remarked, that the commencement 
of the late war was a moment when the federal part} 
might have been renewed — that the opportunity was 
lost, and perhaps fortunately. Though a war with 
one of the great belligerent powers had seemed inevi- 
table for years, it was declared at last rashly, because 
very slight preparation had been made, and the repre- 
sentatives who declared it, refused to lay taxes for 
its support, and hurried home to take care of their 
popularity. Almost destitute of the first means even 
for defensive, there could not be any preparation for 
offensive, warfare, that merited the name. With 
undisciplined, new levies, very few of whose officers 
had seen service ; without any one department being 
organized, or any well arranged plan of a campaign, 
our operations commenced — defeat in the first in- 
stance was inevitable ; — the miserable state of the 
finances, and the little confidence felt by the moneyed 
interest in their management, soon accumulated the 
tnost serious difficulties. We had, besides, been so 
long at peace, there was something so resounding and 
imposing in the great military and naval conflicts, 
which had taken place in this era ; — we had been so 
long bullied and injured by the rival powers, that 
many individuals distrusted our prowess, and believed 
that our enterprise was suited only to peaceful pur- 
7 



50 

suits, and that we should be very unapt scholars m 
martial science. If then the federalists, when the 
war broke out, had established a correspondence with 
each other, for a uniform plan of proceeding ; if they 
had continued to denounce the war, not for its 
wickedness, but for its rashness and impolicy ; had 
they given the government the means they asked to 
carry it on effectively, and confined themselves to legi- 
timate measures of opposition ; to pointing out the 
mismanagement, the improvidence, which menaced 
the country with ruin, they would have acquired a 
prodigious increase of strength, and perhaps might 
have come again into power. But with marvellous 
magnanimity, as regarded party policy, they set them- 
selves to oppose the current of national feeling, not 
the conduct of the administration ; they clamoured 
against the war itself, not the mismanagement of it, 
and they were so much in dread of the ambition of 
the cabinet at Washington, that they did every thing 
in their power to thwart the prosecution of the war ; 
rather trusting for a peace to the forbearance of an 
arrogant, grasping, irritated, foreign power, than to an 
administration that had been driven into it, and were 
most anxious to get out of the difficulty. By this 
course, which paralyzed some important operations? 
they alarmed many moderate men, who however they 
may happen to vote, care more for their country than 
their party ; and a very large number of others were 
disgusted and driven away, by the anti-national tone, 
which was so foolishly and so frequently adopted. 



51 

There was no concert between different parts ol 
the country ; the principles that were broached here, 
together with the tone of our newspapers and resohi- 
tions, destroyed all sympathy in the breasts of fede 
ralists in other states. Thus the occasion for renovat 
ing the federal party was lost, and the fragment of ir 
which subsisted in the eastern section of the Union, 
occupied itself with more; passion than foresight in 
opposing the national feelings ; and struggling against 
the intrigues of a domestic faction, that was making 
use of the war to get the control of the state govern- 
ments ; and although the pressure of the war was 
very severe upon this quarter, this was perhaps 
the most dreaded of all it calamities. 

You may, perhaps, think it inconsistent in me to 
suggest, that it was fortunate, that the occasion for 
restoring the federal party was lost ; — you will there- 
fore excuse a few words in explanation. So many 
distinguished leaders of the party were dead ; it had 
so entirely run out in many of the states, and such a 
load of obloquy had been unjustly heaped upon it, 
that even if it had been restored to power, the preju- 
dices in many parts of the Union were so strong, that 
it could never have acted usefully for the nation. It 
was much better, that the party which had displaced 
it, and which had the popular prejudice in its favour, 
should gradually assume its principles, which were 
the original principles of our government. You wil 
perceive my meaning without further illustration ; but 
one point is too striking to be omitted. One of the 



52 

great measures of* the federal administration, one of 
the vital supports of this union at home and abroad, is 
the navy ; — ^you know what a mass of jealousy and 
hatred was engendered against it; how many vision- 
ary unfounded statements were made, both in 
speeches and writings ; how resolutely it was doomed 
to destruction. The late war, one of the most fortu- 
nate, both in a foreign and domestic view, that any 
nation ever waged ; which 1 believe to have been the 
most redeeming and salutary in its consequences to 
this nation — if it had done no other good, would 
have been of incalculable value, in showing the indis- 
pensable importance of this branch of defence, and 
the excellent materials we possess for it. Probably 
there is no subject on which the opinion of the pub- 
lic is now so unanimous ; its increase and prosperity 
are favourite objects with the administration and 
with the people, and there is no one to dissent ; — but 
in the hands of the federal party, suspicion would 
have watched every step, and its growth and efficien- 
cy would have been greatly retarded by opposition. 

During a long course of party animosity and 
aspersion, it had grown to be a matter of belief, that 
the administration, in the management of our foreign 
rielations, were entirely under the influence of France : 
the main proofs of which were brought from their 
avowed partiality and violent sympathy for the 
French Revolution, long after many who hailed 
its commencement with the most generous emotions 
were disgusted with the course it took, and filled with 



53 

too just apprehensions of its wretched termination. 
This belief, naturally enough, produced a feeling in 
favour of the rival of France, more particularly, 
when the existence of that rival seemed to be in the 
most imminent danger, and the power of France me- 
naced the civilized world with subjection to military 
tyranny. A number of writers for a series of years, 
had dwelt on the danger to which we were ultimate- 
ly exposed, by the prophesied supremacy of France.* 
Fear of that power, rather than love of England, 

* The writings of Fisher Anies, one of the most accomplished orators tliat the 
eastern states have produced, had a decisive influence in this way. They gave a 
tone to almost all our new.^paper essays for a loug time. Mr. Ames had suirender- 
ed his mind to a theory, and, as men of genius are prone to do, pursued it in all its 
ramifications, till judgment was out of sight. There was a settled systematic con- 
viction in his mind, of an inevitable, intrinsic principle of rapid deterioratioQ 
in our institutions ; and this produced a train of melancholy, gloomy fore* 
bodings, which, couched as they were in the most animated style, made a lasting 
impression. Having taken the deepest interest in public affairs at the period, when 
efforts were made to involve our career with that of revolutionary France ; feeling 
how certain and perhaps irretrievable would have been the evils of such an union; 
having watched the crisis with an anxiety amounting almost to mental agony, and 
having had a very considerable share, by his persuasive eloquence, in preventing 
it ; the feelings that were excited at the time imbued all his ideas, and led him into 
the great error of blending the systems of the French republic and our confederaiiou 
together, though no two political systems could be more fundamentally different. 
With respect to the former, he was always right, and sometimes piophetically so ; 
and with regard to the latter, almost invariably wrong. In his politics, there was 
a tincture of prejudice, infused by early associations with some of his connexions, 
who had been opposed to the revolution. As a public man, there was nothing coarse 
in his ambition, nothing sordid in his views ; but he had too much genius and too 
little worldliness, to make a very successful statesman. lu private life he was the 
delight of his friends ; the amenity of his manners, the simplicity and integrity of 
his heart, the perennial, sparkling brilliancy of his mind, made his society a constant 
source of interest. In the frankness and courtesy of his intercourse, in the pl.iinness 
and moderation of all his habits, in his ardent love of liberty, he was a practical 
.'■ppublican. 



54 

deeply pervaded our political feelings ; and the evils 
of war were rendered insupportably galling, when 
they were supposed to be in any degree owing to the 
intrigues of a foreign despotism You may think 
this illiberality disgraceful, until you recollect the 
miserable imputation so lavishly cast by the other 
side, of " British gold ; " and then regret the common 
degradation of supposing our leading statesmen to 
be corrupt ; an idea which arose from the mutual vio- 
lence of party. The disgraceful habit of making 
such charges, grew out of the phrensy that was spread 
over the world by the French Revolution. We may 
hope that, for the future, we shall respect ourselves 
too highly, to endure the license of similar accusa- 
tions. 

The anti-national tone which was so frequently 
heard here, was generated by the arrogance and 
bigotry of party. Though it was well calculated to 
disgust many persons, whose support would have 
been most useful, as well as to give some colour 
to the charge of settled disaffection ; more mean- 
ing was attached to it elsewhere, than it really 
possessed. Many who abused the conduct of the 
adminstration, till the cause of their country was 
involved in the disrespect, were led to it by the mere 
ill-temper of party, and much of this flippancy was 
stimulated by the wish to vex those, who under the 
magic of certain assumed names, were enjoying all 
the favour of government ; and having cut off the 
majority from the pursuits of peace, deprived them of 



55 

their share of the advantages to be derived from war. 
and condemned them to a mortifying and injurious 
inaction. As to the individuals who have real tory 
sympathies, the class is very small indeed, and obvi- 
ously a mortuary one. Probably we shall not have 
an entirely unprejudiced feeling towards England, 
while there is any man amoiig us, who is older than 
the nation. A few years more will remove the remains 
of that generation, who were once subject to a foreign 
sovereign, and who, often unaware of it, have some re- 
ference in all their feelings to that period, and to the 
struggle which terminated in our independence. 
Those of us who have been born since that event, 
and have never known any other government than 
this of our choice, can hardly realize the lingering 
influence of those prejudices, which were engender- 
ed by the animosities and predilections of our coloni- 
al existence. Most of those who were decided 
tories left the country, and long and bitterly have 
some of them lamented the mistake. Of those who 
yet remain among us, the vestiges of former times, 
the number I suspect is much smaller, than even the 
most liberal minds would be apt to suppose. In most 
of these cases, it is the result of a vague prejudice, 
counteracted by local habits and attachments, and 
without influence. A few years must destroy every 
trace of it ; time has thinned the ranks of the revo- 
lutionary generation, and the remaining few of those 
gallant spirits who achieved our independence, and 
of the timid minds that opposed it, must soon be 
gathered to the bones of their fathers. 



56 

The false ground, not only in a national, but in a 
party view, occupied by tlie federalists in the eastern 
states, was becoming more and more disadvanta- 
geous, exposing them inevitably to ultimate defeat. 
By the kind of opposition they had given to the 
war, public opinion was put into a course, which 
led, by a gradual progress, to the absurdity and 
mischief of an open resistance, or separation ; and 
before it had come to this, the party would have 
been completely dissolved. This was shown in 
the abortive Hartford convention. The leaders of 
the party, by the line which had been followed, 
were driven into this unfortunate measure; for in 
this case, as in many others, those who were 
supposed to lead, because they were placed in ad- 
vance, were in reality driven. The ordinary 
modes of opposition to the administration in order 
to terminate the war, not having been resorted to 
originally, they who had so unadvisedly marked 
out a different route, were called upon, as the pres- 
sure of suffering became greater, to relieve it by 
open resistance if necessary. To temporize and 
parry this violence of discontent, was all that could 
be done. The report of that convention show- 
ed no want of national feeling, and deprecated the 
idea of disunion. That they were sincere in these 
feelings, must indeed be admitted by every one, 
unless you will deny to individuals of acknowledged 
ability and long experience, a deficiency of common 
. sense, and even ordinary sagacity. For how could 



67 

men who were not deficient in these, with no other 
footing than the shifting sand bank of party, which 
the current of public feeling was continually wash- 
ing away, and which we have since seen, has com- 
pletely submerged those who represented what was 
considered the most solid and steady of these 
states ; I ask, how such men could expect to take 
any measures that would lead to a dissolution of 
the Union, or to a civil war ; at the first expectation 
of which they would have been abandoned by their 
followers almost en masse, and when they would 
have been the first, if not the only victims ? These 
transactions furnished a memorable lesson, into 
what insuperable difficulties a wrong system will 
conduct men of even the greatest capacity ; neutra- 
lizing all their powers, causing a certain loss of 
popularity, and subjecting them to the suspicion of 
sinister designs, at the very time they are honestly 
labouring to avoid great calamities. 

The false direction taken at the commencement 
of the war, was partly owing to the federalists having 
given, for a long period, an almost exclusive atten- 
tion to the concerns of their own particular state. 
In a free country the minority get the light only by 
reflection ; they are never directly shone upon, and 
their views of public affairs become confined and 
broken. A seat in the national legislature was to 
them a matter of indifference, when they had lost 
all influence over measures, when they were pro- 
scribed as to every branch of public service, and 
when their employment verged more and more 

8 



68 

towards a captious and ineffectual opposition 
They became satisfied if they could maintain them- 
selves in their state legislatures ; with an occasional 
notice of the affairs of the nation, contained in the 
answer to a governor's speech, or in some high 
sounding, angry, inane " resolutions." However im- 
portant these legislatures may be to the welfare of the 
people, and no one can doubt that they are of the 
highest importance, not merely to local interests, 
but to our existence as a free nation ; there is still 
a subordinate interest in their deliberations, and the 
subjects of them, are confined within narrow limits. 
Their management too is greatly inferior to the prac- 
tice of Congress, both in dignity, and security against 
surprise in the passing of acts. It is hardly possible 
to get a bill through in congress surreptitiously ; it is 
almost impossible to prevent its being done occa- 
sionally in the state legislatures, and sometimes from 
the purest intentions towards the public service. 
Though the state legislature is the common school 
of preparation for congress, it may be doubted 
whether it is a useful one, and more than doubt- 
ed, if the apprenticeship be a long one. The dele- 
gate is prone to make the mistake of the young 
attorney in Rhode Island, who on being chosen 
into its legislature, talked about, " being engaged in 
public life." The topics for discussion are so restrict- 
ed, that the mind accommodates itself to small 
objects. The regulation of a county court, the 
location of a road, or the care of our favourite 
alewife, are the chief concerns to occupy attention 



69 

Sometimes indeed a mighty genius arises, who m 
a wide scope of reform, attempts to secure the 
applause of his constituents with a grand scheme 
of retrenchment ; which by cutting down the 
enormous salaries of the half dozen clerks who 
have grown gray in the public service, may save to 
a state with 800,000 inhabitants, twelve, or even 
fourteen hundred dollars a year ! Another may pro- 
pose to get rid of the shocking scandal which 
arises in a Christian country, from using the pre- 
sent, pagan names of the months and days, so well 
known to be of heathenish derivation. Such 
schemes, to be sure, do not always succeed, but 
they show the dangerous ambition which sometimes 
lurks in our legislatures. 

Connecticut affords an example of this narrow- 
ing influence of local policy. There is no state 
where the common and many of tlie higher bran- 
ches of education are more easily obtained ; there 
is none where instruction is more generally diffused. 
No one will deny, that its inhabitants possess both 
wit and acuteness. Yet among all their able, public 
men, there is hardly one, with the exception of 
those who have been transplanted, who has shown a 
mind capable of extensive range, or that was not 
bigoted to, or fettered by local considerations. This 
might be in some degree owing to the want of a 
large town in the state, where through the inter- 
course and collision of cultivated minds, brought 
together from a distance, a system of generalizing 
might be produced, on the ruins of small prejudices 



GO 

and diminutive apprehensions. Their government 
vibrated between two villages, and a man could not 
be trusted as a delegate for more than six months. 
There was a sort of habitual, pervading police, 
made up of Calvinistic inquisition and village scru- 
tiny, that required a very deleterious subserviency 
from all candidates for public life. A very conceit- 
ed intolerance held opinion in subjection. Superior 
minds were obliged to cower to inferior ones, till 
they lost the power of rising to, and sustaining an 
elevation, whence they could discern the bearing 
and relations of distant objects. We have done 
better in Massachusetts, and may boast of having 
produced some accomplished and powerful states- 
men. This may have been owing in part to our 
having a capital, the seat of the state government, 
and which is the natural centre, not of its own state 
alone, but of the neighbouring territories. A very 
active and extensive foreign commerce has made it 
a mart where much information is collected, and 
where many strangers resort. A greater variety of 
pursuit has enlarged the sphere of observation, and 
diminished the influence of local prejudice. The 
University in its vicinity has fostered the taste for 
literature and science, and it has always possessed 
a more numerous class of cultivated society, than 
cities of the same, or even much greater size. These 
circumstances, among others, have tended to pre- 
serve us from that provincial atmosphere, under 
which every thing, save plants of common growth, 
is blighted or dwindles. 



1 



61 

it will be obvious to you, that the position of 
parties here, being wholly nominal, and entirely 
disconnected with any general system, must speedi- 
ly change, and be differently compounded and 
designated. The deepest apathy prevails in regard 
to all national measures ; the debates of congress 
are hardly more known than those of the British 
parliament : the utmost extent of solicitude goes to 
preserve a preponderance in certain local elections. 
The federalists no longer pretend any opposition to 
the national administration ; their appellation has 
therefore lost all former party meaning. If it had 
not, it would be perfectly absurd to suppose that one 
column could remain, neither supporting nor sup- 
ported, when all the others had been thrown down, 
and their materials combined anew. The demo- 
cratic party are no longer opposed to the federal 
government, since it is administered by their friends. 
The political discord in Massachusetts will subside 
in one of tw^o ways. If the majority maintains a 
resolute, local intolerance, while it demands a ca- 
tholic spirit in the national administration, it will be 
destroyed by the open defection of those who may 
wish to make a merit by so doing, or by the quiet 
secession of others, who are not fond of strife at 
any time, and disgusted with its continuance, when 
it is founded on petty personalities or senseless 
hatred, and is no longer necessary on principle. 
But if this majority, acting in a spirit of magnani- 
mous policy, selects frankly some of its opponents, 
places a full proportion of them in the various 



62 

municipal and civil offices, it will bring about a re- 
conciliation that will put an end to all opposition : 
— to the semblance of it against the general govern- 
ment, from one party, and to the reality of it, 
against the state, from another ; and the present lists 
of proscription will be finally closed. Parties will 
thus be broken up; they will indeed soon form 
anew ; it is necessary for the preservation of freedom 
that they should exist ; but it is equally important, 
that they should not exist too long in the same form, 
lest they become so deep rooted and grow to such a 
height, as to overshadow the constitution. 

1 have now terminated this very ungrateful dis- 
cussion ; and have endeavoured to exhibit some of the 
errors on both sides, in the late exasperated con- 
tention of parties, which has been protracted for so 
many years. My object in part was to show you, 
that the conduct of those who were opposed to the 
late war, and which excited so much surprise and 
odium in other states, was susceptible of some pal- 
liation. The course that was pursued offered the 
most irritating provocation to a majority in this 
section of the Union ; and if that majority went 
beyond the bounds of temper and discretion in 
meeting it, a feeling of magnanimity should dispose 
every one, when the conflict is over, and the passions 
have cooled, to a mutual oblivion. Let me refresh 
myself after the irksome task of reviewing these 
transient bickerings, these evanescent quarrels, with 
a few reflections on the noble condition and mas^- 



63 

mficent prospects of our common country. In the 
contemplation of these all party feelings will be 
forgotten. 

In considering the prosperity of the United 
States, and its daily, hourly extension, it is difficult 
to keep within the limits of sober calculation. Its 
results begin to develope themselves so rapidly, that 
we are easily led away from facts and figures, into 
vague though vivid reveries upon the future amount 
of the population, and the vast resources that will 
he within its command. But in examining the 
political and civil institutions, which regulate this 
fortunate country, whatever pride we may feel from 
their liberality and wisdom, we can discuss them 
with more precision and calmness. This letter 
would swell into a volume with only a superficial 
examination of these subjects ; but you will be 
patient under a page or two more, containing a few 
allusions to them. 

While reasoning upon our government, it is ne- 
cessary to discard many impressions that have been 
made by opinions and theories, derived from histo- 
ry, which presents an identity of names and no 
similarity of circumstances ; from the rise and fall 
of states which existed on different principles ; from 
republics that bore no resemblance to ours. There 
is, in truth, nothing in the annals of the world like 
our federal republic, composed of a number of re- 
presentative democracies, differing in some minute 
circumstances for local convenience, yet having the 
same basis of civil and political rights and duties. 



64 

All these bodies move within certain spheres, and 
the checks against any deviation from their orbit 
are innumerable, not only within themselves, but 
from the others. In this political orrery every thing 
is so calculated, that when a new star comes in sight, 
it is immediately subjected to the same influence, and 
tends to increase the harmony and strength of the 
whole. Many able men have had their fears about 
the durability of our system, not, as vulgar malice 
would insinuate from enmity to it, but from very 
strong attachment and excessive fears in conse- 
quence. In arguments on this subject, when other 
reasons fail, we are commonly suffocated with 
some such truisms as these, — human nature is ever 
the same ; men will always be governed by their 
passions, &c. Yet after having recovered our 
breath, let us ask for a parallel case ; show us one 
example of a republic like ours having failed, or 
having ever existed at all. How idle it is to talk of the 
Grecian or Roman republics ; in what did they 
resemble our system ? The miniature community 
of San Marino ; the Dutch republic, composed of a 
stadtholder, an hereditary and a moneyed aristocra- 
cy, or " a free, imperial Hanseatic city, " made up 
of commission merchants, brokers, and their appen- 
dages, and who could " cover their territory with 
their shirts, " might as well be brought forward. 
The exterior form of ancient republics was impo- 
sing, but the grand improvement of modern 
political science — representation — which has been 



65 

brought to such high perfection in this country ; 
which is felt not only in the great veins and arte- 
ries, but exhibited in the very capillaries of the 
state, was most imperfectly known ; and partially 
practiced. The moderns have never yet equalled 
the Apollo or the Venus ; yet notwithstanding the 
excellence of those ideal forms, the ancients were 
ignorant of the circulation of the blood : and there is 
not a greater difference in the degree of science dis- 
covered in the exquisite, superficial beauty of a 
statue, by the hand of Phidias ; or in one of those 
wonderful anatomical statues from the school of 
Florence, than there is between the mechanism 
and polity of the Grecian and American states. 

The advanced state of the representative system, 
and its extensive application here, which some ci- 
vilians, reasoning on the example of nations under 
different circumstances, have considered a principle 
of weakness and ultimate mischief, are in reality 
the great basis of our national strength and security. 
There is no nation that can boast of similar advan- 
tages ; even in England, where the system is per- 
haps best understood, bow broken, irregular, and 
unequal it is in its organization, and in its exercise, 
how subject to the foulest abuses ! A parliamen- 
tary election in that country, more nearly resembles 
the license of the saturnalia, than the solemn act of 
freemen, conferring the most precious of all authori- 
ty. In this country every thing is delegated ; the 
practice of representation extends its ramifications 
through every part of society. The frequency and 

9 



66 

universality of election, give a facility and habit of 
judging to the electors, who, though commonly 
subjected to the dictates of party, are not imperiously 
so, and without their own consent. Even here it 
is the same principle that governs ; the choice with 
whom to act is always open. This principle is 
every where in action, from villages to cities, coun- 
ties, states, up to the confederation ; from the meanest 
village officer up to the President of the United 
States, almost every species of authority is the result 
of election. The principle is varied in its action, 
according to regular fixed rules, and is thus preven- 
ted from becoming unwieldy. The infinite checks 
against the abuse of power, the unrestricted opening 
for talent, and the precedence accorded to it ; the 
publicity of all transactions, the wide diffusion of 
intelligence, and the inevitable influence of public, 
sentiment ; render this matured scheme of representa- 
tion, the main support of our liberty, happiness and 
strength. 

One of the objections that was made to the 
durability of our republic, was the very trite one, 
that it was not fit for a country of such extent, and 
that only a small territory could endure a republi- 
can form. In that masterly commentary on our 
constitution. The Federalist, it was suggested, 
with as much sagacity as originality, that this idea 
was erroneous ; that where a small republic had 
existed, it was owing more to external circumstan- 
ces, than to its intrinsic strength, and that an ex- 
tensive country was better suited to maintain a re- 



67 

public, than a small one. Time has already de- 
veloped the soundness of this opinion, and few now 
can doubt, that the extent of our country is one 
great cause of security for its free government ; 
that the accessions which have been made to the 
confederation have added to its strength, and that 
its vigour and adhesiveness must continue for a 
long time to increase. 

One powerful security of our republic is, its 
being a confederation, the extent of which renders 
a consolidation impossible : this magnificent organi- 
zation is alone sufficient to render its authors illus- 
trious. Compare it with any ancient or modern 
confederations ; with the Peloponnesian league, the 
cantons of Switzerland, or the federal system of 
Germany, and how infinitely superior is its consti- 
tution. The several states, exercising a sovereign- 
ty for all their immediate and intimate concerns, 
save the general government from all trouble and 
responsibility about their local interests ; from the 
danger of being corrupted by having an excess of 
patronage, and the dissatisfaction and broils that 
would be created in its distribution ; while the 
citizen is guaranteed against the numerous delays or 
injudicious measures that would be incident to a 
distant exercise of authority. The manner in 
which these states are represented in congress, vary- 
ing in form, yet perfectly harmonizing in spirit, is 
another source of security. The innumerable 
checks that are given by the sovereignty of the 
states, against the encroachments of ambition in the 



68 

general government, are certain in then" opcratioii. 
An arrogant, ambitious cabinet might disregard a 
minority in the capitol, but if their designs were 
dangerous, this minority would find a triumphant 
support in the state governments. Yet how absurd 
and hopeless is an open resistance in any of these 
state governments to the federal government ; the 
moment an attempt is made, it is checked in its 
turn by the minority within itself; which minority, 
if resistance be persevered in, soon terminates it, by 
becoming the majority. The state and general 
governments thus mutually assure each other, by 
forming alternately a point of support against a 
designing or mistaken policy. 

This has been remarkably shown in the difficulty 
of altering the constitution, which though it may 
receive amendments, can only do so from the de- 
cided sentiments of a large majority of the nation. 
The process necessary for this purpose, is replete 
with safety to the object of it. Many of the states 
have tried their hand at this game, or rather certain 
individuals, feeling a call to be reformers, have 
stimulated their legislatures to make the attempt ; 
which is calmly, and almost as a matter of course, 
extinguished by the others. 

That the union of the states has increased in 
strength as it has grown older, there can be no 
doubt; and that the accession of new states, for 
the present at least, has a tendency to confirm it, 
seems equally certain. When General Hamilton 
was asked to mention a supposable case, where the 



69 

Union would be in clanger, he gave as an an- 
swer ; that supposing a combination between Mas- 
sachusetts and Virginia, to oppose any particular 
measures, should take place, it would certainly 
create very serious embarrassment, if it did not 
destroy the Union. This was twenty years ago. 
Admitting the same case to happen now, the mis- 
chief doubtless would be great, but the ultimate 
danger is certainly lessened. The other states have 
acquired greater strength, and the relative impor- 
tance' of these two is diminished, and diminishing 
every day, though both are increasing in wealth 
and population. They are minds of small calibre, 
which boast now of belonging to Virginia or to 
Massachusetts; these narrow, local, factious pre- 
tensions, are abashed ; they are replaced by the 
more noble, generous claim, to the national appel- 
lation of an American. Indeed the mutual advan- 
tages of the Union are so continually developing, 
and the independence of the states is so secure 
against the danger of consolidation, that nothing 
short of an universal phrenzy could dissolve the 
republic. One of the events, and indeed the only 
one now talked of, which would produce that mis- 
fortune, would be the change of the seat of gov- 
ernment, and keeping it in a moveable state. If 
this course of policy should be pursued, an estab- 
lishment of waggons would then be the only means 
of adapting it to a shifting location, answerable to 
the imaginary centre of the nation, whose circle is 
continually spreading with the flood of emigration. 



70 

But it is said, the western states are rapidly increas- 
ing in population, and after a second or third ad- 
ditional census, they will have the majority of num- 
bers, and will carry the seat of government on the 
other side of the mountains. This would be such 
a dangerous evil to the Atlantic states, that a 
division might indeed be the consequence. Now 
putting out of the question the influence of all 
reason and policy in the case; that it is of little 
consequence to the interior states to have the seat 
of government among them, because the objects of 
the federal government are almost wholly external ; 
that there is no danger to be guarded against, ex- 
cept from the east ; and that if this government 
were not within reach of the sea-coast, its foreign 
relations would meet with so much delay, and its 
distance from the scene of operations, where any 
enemy could appear, would be so great, that the At- 
lantic states might be visited with the most serious 
calamities before it could interpose ; putting all 
considerations of this nature out of the question, 
and there are many unanswerable ones that are 
obvious, let us see what other impediments may 
arise to such a change. 

In the first place, the communication between the 
western and Atlantic states is every day becoming 
easier. Before this contemplated majority is attain- 
ed, there will be another state on the Gulf of Mexico, 
between the Sabine and the Colorado ; another on 
the Red River, one on the Arkansas, on the Osage, 
the Kanses and the Platte, besides two or three on 



71 

the Missouri, and one in the North West Territory. 
Now where is the new seat of government to be ? 
Not at Chillicothe, which used to be talked of 
when the western settlements were in their infancy ; 
that is already quite out of sight. It is difficult to 
say where it would be, probably on the Osage, or 
the Kanses. But in the mean time the state of 
Ohio will have become opposed to the measure. 
It is easier for them to go to Washington, if they 
cannot have it at Chillicothe: Michigan has the 
same feeling : Kentucky and Tennessee are nearer 
home at Washington than to go down their rivers 
and up the Missouri. Besides, the unanimity now 
prevailing in the western states cannot last ; if 
they continue free, they will be split into parties, 
which would have a bearing on this question, and 
perhaps this very question itself might destroy this 
unanimity. Those states also, by the time this 
question is called, up, will have got rid of their gid- 
diness, and reached a degree of maturity, that will 
cause them to act on questions of great national 
moment, with an enlarged, sober, dignified policy ; 
and not be governed by a spirit of rash, heedless 
vapouring, the vulgar consequences of sudden 
growth and new-made fortune. This is all specu- 
lation ; but you will listen with complacence to any 
thing that can be said, against even the prospect of 
80 great an evil as separation, which seems to be 
more improbable every day. That it will never 
take place I do not mean to assert, but I believe 
most confidentlv that it is very distant. When the 



72 

future Pacific states come to be represented in con- 
gress, and a member cannot travel to his home and 
back in the interval of the sessions, it may be diffi- 
cult to get over the inconvenience ; but this is an 
affair for posterity. We can only endeavour to 
leave for their use such regulations, such motives 
for attachment, and such experience, as may assist 
them in their deliberations. 

When to our civil and political advantages, we 
add the benefits we owe to our extensive limits, 
that our country comprises every climate, from that 
in which Alpine plants may be found on the tide 
water, to one which ripens the sugar cane ; that all 
the productions between these extremes may be 
cultivated freely and exchanged without restric- 
tion, and that the industry of man, spread over 
such a large portion of the earth, will at no distant 
period supply every want : while this industry ex- 
isting under one banner, fettered by no custom- 
house impediments or restrictions, is enabled, by 
every where directing its eflbrts after the most 
beneficial manner, to throw the vast capabilities of 
this immense territory into one common stock, 
how incalculable the amount of prosperity that 
will be created ! When we consider that enterprise 
is unbounded, and constantly excited by successful 
examples, that property is secure, the person pro- 
tected, and opinion without arbitrary control ; that 
the restless may go when and where they will, and 
every man in the pursuit of fame, fortune or 
amusement, may range unquestioned throughout 



75 

these wide domains ; what a prospective accumula- 
tion of giorj, happiness and power is here displayed ! 
Much of this is owing to local position, but it 
■would be false modesty to deny, that much of it 
is owing to ourselves, to the patriotism, integrity, 
ability and moderation of our public men, and to 
the intelligence and morality of our citizens at 
large. Our character and condition attract daily, 
more and more of the attention of the world. 
The late war was productive of inestimable bene- 
fit in this way ; it made us known and respected 
by other nations. Our youth and our distance had 
made us little regarded, often misrepresented, and 
very falsely appreciated. Dragged into war at 
the end of a long quarrel, which had desolated 
every nation in Europe, and given military glory 
an unfortunate superiority over all others, we soon 
gave decisive proofs, that peace had not made us 
timid, nor liberty ungovernable. The vulgar glory 
which arises from gallantry and skill in war, we 
showed ourselves capable of attaining, not by an 
equivocal struggle with a weak nation, but in a 
hardy conflict with the strongest. Foreigners who 
see us abroad, or visit us at home, estimate us 
more justly, since recent events have dissipated so 
many prejudices. The old routine of calumny 
begins to be discontinued, and though some exag- 
geration may grow out of the re-action, we shall 
hereafter be better understood. Enlightened stran- 
gers see our country in a favourable, but a true 
light, and are exempt from the bia« which is given 

10 



74 

by party passions. One of this class, who after 
having reigned for some years as a sovereign, over 
some of the fairest portions of Europe ; and now re- 
sides in this country with philosophic contentment, 
and all the simplicity of a private gentleman, remark- 
ed to me in conversation ; " This is a happy nation, 
" and in the most fortunate circumstances : some per- 
" sons think you have not government enough ; 
" others, that you have too much ; they are both 
" wrong ; every thing is as it should be, and it is 
" the happiest country in the world for persons like 
" me, who neither wish to command, nor to obey." 
It is natural that the citizens of such a nation 
should exult in their national character. It is im- 
possible that men born and educated in a country, 
governed on more elevated principles than any other ; 
under a system which supposes a higher degree of 
virtue and intelligence in its inhabitants ; where 
every man may enjoy not only civil liberty, but the 
highest political immunities, — where there is no 
titular inferiority, and no exclusive privileges ; 
where talent and virtue are the only honoura- 
ble distinctions, and open the way to the highest 
m.'gistracy, it is impossible such men should not be 
proud, and glory in the character of republicans. 
The vulgar and the insolent will be apt to show 
this oflensively to other nations ; but the man of 
education, who knows how to reconcile the esteem 
of others with self respect, while careful not to 
offend foreigners with arrogance or vanity, and 
allowing them all the advantages resulting from a 



I 



75 



high degree of polished refinement, and the estab- 
lishment of many time-honoured institutions, will 
still secretly feel, that his national condition is the 
noblest in the world. 



LETTER TIL 



RELIGION. 



My dear Friend, 

Though I could not entirely clear your brow 
from that expression of reproachful anxiety, which 
would come over it, when the situation of Religion 
here was a subject of our conversation ; yet you 
were willing to smile at the ludicrous denuncia- 
tions of some of your fellow citizens, and of others 
farther south, against the heretical sects in this 
quarter, while they themselves never passed the 
threshold of any church. Even the orthodox 
among us, if they are not partisans, think their 
friends in other states, who hold the same opinions 
with themselves, a little bigoted in their judgment 
of our Unitarians. It is indeed difficult to feel any 
prejudice against the theory of people, whose 
practice embraces every virtue ; and we perhaps 



76 

become insensible to the danger of certain tenets in 
their ultimate consequences, by the constant exhibi- 
tion of the most benevolent virtues in their present 
followers. Many of these who go to j)laces of 
public worship, from motives not very dissimilar to 
those of the lady in your city, who took a pew in 
the Unitarian chapel ; " because it was a nice, cool 
place, to carry the children," are dangerous ex- 
amples of strict morality and active virtue, connect- 
ed with very unsound and limited notions of ab- 
stract doctrine. In attempting to give you some 
account of the present state of religion in Massa- 
chusetts, you must recollect that 1 am no theologian, 
and thr't I offer you only a superficial sketch, un- 
biassed by any sectarian prejudice. 

The consideration of the state of religion here is 
attended with peculiar interest, since the first 
colonists, driven by persecution to seek a shelter for 
their principles, crossed the ocean to maintain them, 
and laid the foundations of this state, as a religious 
commonwealth. They acted in the spirit, and con- 
sidered themselves as living under the sway, of a 
theocracy ; and this was accompanied with the 
highest degree of zeal and intolerance in conduct, 
purity of manners, austerity in discipline, and the 
severest tenets of failh. They were rigid Calvinists 
in belief; puritans in regard to all the amusements 
of the world ; obstinate dissenters from all cere- 
monies in worship; jealous independents of all 
ecclesiastical government, and most devout abhor- 
rers of every other sect. The cruel character and 



77 

appalling ferocity of this religious creed, never 
were better justified and strengthened by circum- 
stances. Men might naturally believe in a system, 
which transformed that Deity, who is the fountain 
of mercy and God of all grace, into a being of 
mysterious vengeance and cruelty ; when they 
found themselves, though living in the strictest 
morality and devoted to religion, called upon to 
endure the greatest sufferings, exposed to an untried 
climate and howling wilderness, the coil of the 
rattlesnake at their heels, and the tomahawk of the 
savage at their heads. 

It was not a sudden impulse, but a long course of 
preparation, that drove them to cross the \tlantic ; 
the process was gradual that hardened their feelings 
to every thing but their religious attachments, and 
made them prefer those to every other considera- 
tion. They were as ready to suffer martyrdom 
as to inflict it ; the time indeed had gone by when 
the refractory were condemned to the flames in 
this world. But martyrdom, according to the 
fashion of the day — proscription, imprisonment and 
exile — they first suffered themselves, and then in- 
flicted on others ; they were the victims of intolerance 
and ecclesiastical tyranny ; and the moment it was 
in their power exercised both. Stimulated as they 
believed by the love of God in both cases, they en- 
dured, and they made others endure from the closest 
convictions of conscience ; having sacrificed fortune, 
friends and country, in support of their principles, 
any permission to differ would have been considered 



78 

a criminal levity and inconsistency. Persecution 
was to them a lesson, not of charity, but of per- 
severance, and the system they adopted was as rigid 
and exclusive, as that from which they had fled. 

Stern and zealous as they were, they could not 
be wholly insensible to the reflections that were 
cast upon them, for thus following a system of 
oppression in matters of religion, against which in 
others tliey complained so justly. It was answered 
in excuse, that the case was materially different ; 
that they had been driven from their home for want 
of conformity, and had fled to this wilderness to 
enjoy their freedom ; that they had purchased the 
soil, and established a community for the express 
purpose of worshipping God in simplicity and truth ; 
that they enticed no one to join them, nor wished 
for any but those who could unite with them in 
their faith and practice. That under these circum- 
stances, when they had sought a new world to 
establish their own forms of worship, and to renew 
the faith and purity of the primitive church, it was 
unjust, that they should be interrupted by the 
intrusion of other sects, who voluntarily came 
among them to create jealousy and disunion ; that 
they had a right, according to the laws they had 
made, to punish and drive away these intruders, and 
all those of their own faith who became apostates, 
or fell off from the ordinances of their church. 
They wanted none to join them, except they were 
of the same communion ; and they felt themselves 
called upon by the principles they professed, and all 



79 

the sacrifices they had made for them, to preserve 
their community from the contamination of false 
teachers, and the danger of religious dissention. 

Their hatred of Roman Catholics was an abhor- 
rence, confirmed by all the prejudices — some of them 
indeed, too well-founded, of the age in which they 
lived. Their prayers and sermons were seldom 
without some imprecation against them : their op- 
position to Episcopacy was sharpened by the actual 
sufferings they had drawn upon themselves for non- 
conformity : their animosity against Quakers was 
embittered by scorn for the mad extravagances of 
some of that sect ; by their spiritual democracy, 
their abrogation of the priesthood under every form, 
and their contempt of all human learning and ac- 
quirements in teaching the duties of religion. This 
was touching our ancestors in very susceptible 
points. They had abjured the proud hierarchy at 
home, but had established a kind of one here, in 
which power was not less jealous, nor subordina- 
tion less rigid, because the gradations were fewer 
and less ostentatious. There were wide chasms be- 
tween those who were not in full communion, and the 
communicants, the deacons, and the pastors ; besides 
the precedence that was awarded in this latter class 
to greater talents. The denunciation of learning 
excited indignation among men, who considered 
this, next to religion, the first object of their care ; 
and this too mainly on the ground, that it would 
serve the interests of the former. They had among 
them many individuals who were men of profound 



80 

learning, distinguished scholars of the English 
universities ; who could not endure that those 
acquirements should be scoffed at, which had cost 
them unremitting toil, and consumed the prime of 
their life to acquire. 

Permit me, however, to remark to you, that 
their conduct towards the Quakers has been misre- 
presented, and excited an odium in that sect, which 
would have been less strong, if the provocations 
that were given had been more generally known. 
A farmer among them, told a friend of mine who 
was with the army in the Jerseys in 1776, that we 
had never been able to raise wheat in Massachusetts 
since we hung the Quakers ; and possibly this be- 
lief may exist w^ith some to this day. The Qua- 
kers however who annoyed our ancestors, were 
very different from the mild and benevolent Friends 
of our times. The former were stubborn and con- 
tumelious fanatics, extravagant and wild in their 
tenets and actions, setting at nought the dictates of 
common sense, and the common decencies of life. 
Some idea of this may be formed from the follow- 
ing anec^dote, as related by an early historian. 
" Two women (of that sect) stark naked as ever 
they were born, came into our public assemblies, 
and they were (baggages that they were) adjudged 
unto the whipping post, for that piece of devilism. " 
Such an outrage, if it were perpetrated now, would 
probably meet with as harsh treatment. But the 
executions for the crime of witchcraft were a de- 
Dlorable delusion, the stain of which cannot indeed 



81 

be effaced, yet which equally disgraces the annals 
of France, England, and other countries ; and in 
some of them similar crimes have been perpetrated 
at a later period, under circumstances that render 
them even more inexcusable. 

It was a fortunate circumstance, that the limits 
of the colony were so narrow towards the south ; 
as those who would not conform to the system 
established here, could in one day easily obtain a 
refuge without the Massachusetts or Connecticut 
jurisdiction. The small state of Rhode-Island, 
comprising the fine island of that name, and a strip 
from each of the contiguous states, offered an asy- 
lum to the persecuted of all descriptions ; and 
by drawing off all who were of a different belief 
from the creed established in the adjoining territo- 
ries, contributed greatly to that remarkable unani- 
mity, which made the Congregational, Calvinistic 
churches of Massachusetts and Connecticut, for so 
long a period, not only the prevailing, but almost 
the only church existing within their limits. The 
celebrated Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode- 
Island, was a man of a liberal, enlightened mind, 
and upright, humane character ; to whom we ought 
to render justice now, with more eagerness, as he 
was calumniated greatly in former times. Rhode- 
Island thus settled, became, as an early historian 
expresses it, a perfect " colluvies of heretical sects ;" 
and the entire toleration that prevailed, which was 
indeed extraordinary in that age, filled with aston- 
ishment the intolerant champions of orthodoxy, 
11 



who thought such a state of things must soon draw 
down destruction on itself. It was, indeed, diffi- 
cult to organize a society out of such discordant 
materials ; and perfect freedom on matters of reli- 
gion, which was salutary, was, perhaps, at that 
time, inevitably blended with laxity in other con- 
cerns, that had a deleterious influence on the morals 
of the people. 

Having thus a neighbouring colony to which 
persons of other sects could easily resort, our an- 
cestors kept their religious state without mixture 
with those, who were out of the pale of their 
church. They were constantly recruited by dis- 
senters from England, who were induced to aban- 
don a country where they were held in contempt, if 
not oppression, to join their brethren who were at 
the head of a colony. A correspondence from 
sympathy was naturally kept up, and a people who 
were always republicans, rejoiced at the establish- 
ment of the tyrannical English commonwealth ; 
which placed their friends in power, and gratified 
them in the protection of what they conscientiously 
believed to be the pure, undefiled worship of God. 
Of course their submission to the Stuarts, while 
that luckless family was on the throne, though 
respectful in terms, was never cordial in feeling ; 
their religious and political tenets both forbade it. 
They also early laid a solid foundation, in the estab- 
lishment of the college at Cambridge, for perpetu- 
ating their influence, and rendering it respectable. 
Such indeed was their reputation for learning and 



8t{ 

piety, that they were resorted to for clergymen, 
from the churches in other colonies of the conti- 
nent, as well as from the West Indies. Their 
system engaged many principles in its support, and 
by its great unity of action, combined with the con- 
curring causes already mentioned, enjoyed a fair 
promise of perpetuity. The ambitious adhered to it, 
because it was the certain and chief means of civil 
influence ; while a purer impulse secured the zeal- 
ous support of the pious. 

This remarkable unity, this almost exclusive ex- 
istence of a single sect, was liable, however, in 
the natural course of events, to be broken by the 
intrusion of other forms, as actually happened. 
The Episcopalians began to obtain a footing to- 
wards the close of the seventeenth century. It 
was natural that the crown should favour their es- 
tablishment, in order, to make religion an engine 
of state in the colonies, as it was at home ; most 
of the officers they appointed were of this persua- 
sion. After the country became settled, and began 
to develope the means of commerce, many of the 
emigrants, when persecution liad ceased, were of a 
class who removed with a view of bettering their 
temporal condition ; and some of this class, who 
belonged to the established church, increased the 
Episcopal churches here. These churches were 
always respectable, though not numerous. Those 
gentlemen, whose sympathies or interests made 
them royalists before the revolution, were generally 
of this church : and there was something aristocra- 



84 

tic in the refinement and courtesy of its forms, sim- 
ple as they are, which attracted those who were 
repelled by the prudish, starch demeanour, and de- 
mocratic spirit of the dissenting churches. They 
never formed, however, more than a seventh of the 
congregations in Boston, and a much less propor- 
tion in other parts of New-England. 

The Quakers also, who had not been entirely 
eradicated, obtained a secure and undisturbed set- 
tlement when the agitation of early dissentions had 
subsided. Their troublesome fanaticism gradually 
ceased, and the violent animosity they had excited, 
ceased with it. They built, and still retain a house 
of worship in Boston, but which has been closed 
for a long series of years, and it is a little singular 
that in this town, there should not be a sufficient 
number of Friends to form a small congregation. 
They are scattered over almost every part of the 
state ; more commonly engaged in commerce and 
manufactures than in agriculture ; some of them 
opulent, and all of them reputable. 

The Baptists have greatly increased of late years, 
and are now one of the most numerous sects. Till 
a recent period, there was something of the primi- 
tive, congregational domination still perceptible 
in Massachusetts, though it was more in appearance 
than reality. Of course, so long as any semblance 
remained, that the government of the state leaned 
towards a particular church, the pernicious alliance 
of politics and rebgion was sure to follow. A poli- 
tical minority was eager to sympathize with a reli- 



85 

gioMS one ; and their grievances, whether fancied or 
real, led to a union in opposition, and this influence 
has been extensively shown. Fortunately, how- 
ever, but little animosity has been created ; for the 
most extravagant party exaggeration could make 
out very slender cases for complaint. The Baptists 
grew more moderate when perfect toleration was 
established : and a few eminent teachers in their 
raaks gave them more dignity. The learniiig and 
ability of some of their preachers in England, have 
made them amongst the most respectable of the 
dissenters there ; and this circumstance has had a 
useful influence here, by elevating their views, rather 
to improve themselves, than to increase their num- 
bers. Among our proselyting sects, they may be 
considered the most respectable. 

The Methodists are dispersed over the eastern 
states, with two churches in this capital. Their 
standing, in Massachusetts at least, is less respecta- 
ble and more precarious than most of the other 
sects ; though there are many worthy, kind hearted 
people in the humble walks of life belonging to 
them. There nasal whinings, camp meetings, and 
itinerant preachers, are not congenial to the taste 
of the community. The rational and sedate are 
disgusted ; the fervid and zealous have a resource 
in some of the churches of other sects ; and the 
people generally, are fond of a steady connexion 
with a pastor who is devoted to them. The wan- 
dering course of the Methodist preachers, their 
strange assemblies in the fields, and the call for 
"violent, enthusiastic excitement in their worship, is 



86 

not suited to our climate or situation. Such a sect 
is better calculated for regions where religion comes 
periodically, like the fever and ague, than for those 
where it is a healthful, regular pulsation of the 
heart, producing a mild worship of the beneficent 
Father of the world, perennial as his mercies. 

There are several other sects to be found among 
us, but they are not of sufficient importance to be 
enumerated. Last of all, came the Roman Catho- 
lics ; and few events of a subordinate kind were 
more remarkable than this. The foundation of a 
Catholic church in Boston, could only be surpassed 
bv devoting a chamber in the Vatican to a Protestant 
chapel. Our ancestors had a tenfold horror of the 
church of Rome ; they first seceded from the En- 
glish church, because they suspected some of the 
prelates of a leaning to popery. All the prejudi- 
ces and fears, that could be produced from a junc- 
tion of political jealousy and religious bigotry, 
they brought with them to these shores, and care- 
fully nourished. The troubles created by the 
Indian wars, which were stimulated by the French 
in Canada, kept their animosity alive, and the 
Prince of darkness himself was hardly more an 
object of horror to them, than a Jesuit. They 
preached and prayed most stoutly and frequently 
against the scarlet lady of Babylon, against the 
antichrist of Rome ; and even down to the last 
generation, used all the trite terms of vituperation, 
that were so often applied to the Pope. Their 
invectives against him were so well known, that a 



87 

gentleman of Boston who was presented to Cle- 
ment XIV. was asked by that pontiff, with a good- 
natured smile, " whether Ur. Sewall still continued 
to pray for the downfall of Babylon."* 

It was not till after the peace of 1783, that any 
attempts were made to found a Catholic church in 
Massachusetts. A very few Catholic families are 
dispersed over the state, but the only regular 
church is in Boston.f Their first place of worship 
was a small chapel, since taken down ; and it was 
a singular circumstance, that this chapel was origi- 
nally built by French Protestants, who fled from 
Catholic persecution. In its commencement the 
congregation was small, and not very fortunate in 
its pastors. It increased gradually by emigrants 
from Ireland, until the building they occupied was 
unable to contain them. They then built a new 
church, partly by the great and meritorious exer- 
tions of the poor people who composed the congre- 
gation, whose zeal made them contribute all they 
Gould spare from their own support ; partly by 
the contributions of some individuals among the 
Protestants, whose liberality on this occasion was 

* Before the papal power had dwindled toils present limits, the Court of 
Rome was amply supplied with iotelligeuce from all parts of the world. A know- 
ledge of minute details in distant places will not appear wonderful, to those, who 
know how the system of secret intelligence is matured by the governmeDts who 
maintain it ; what seems mysterious, is in fact very simple. Boston was long the 
head quarters of puritaoism, and being most zealously opposed to the French 
power in Canada and the extension of the Catholic religion, the Jesuit missiona- 
ries, who were the agents for extending both, would of course furnish a list of 
the chief individuals in the place, to the ecclesiastical police of the Pope. 

+ There are two Catholic chapels in Maine. 



88 

not merely of the purse, but, considering the pre- 
vious, hereditary prejudices, of the mind. All feel- 
ings of this kind have so nearly subsided, that the 
present generation can hardly picture to themselves 
the bigotry that oppressed even the last. The 
Pope is no longer an object of fear, and if the 
Catholic religion could get rid of some of its en- 
cumbrances, which are now not only burdensome, 
but ridiculous ; and revert to the simplicity of pri- 
mitive institutions, many classes of protestants would 
approach them without distrust, and this most 
ancient Christian church be regarded with higher 
reverence. The church in Boston has derived the 
greatest advantage from the French Revolution, 
which drove into exile so large a portion of the 
priesthood. Two individuals, of great acquire- 
ments, full of charity and piety, driven from their 
distracted country, received the charge of this infant 
church. They have fulfilled the numerous paro- 
chial duties required by the Catholic religion, with 
apostolical simplicity and evangelical zeal, neither 
attempting to make proselytes nor to excite contro- 
versy ; and I presume it cannot be disputed, and I 
hope will not be considered invidious to say, (the 
circumstances of their congregation being taken into 
view,) that their ministry is by far the most arduous 
and useful in the town.* 

The cause of orthodoxy hardly gained enough 
by this accession of a church, which considers itself 

* One of {be gontleinen a'liuiprl 1o. t'lp R»?verpnd Doctor Malignon, is since 
dead. 



89 

the only orthodox one, to make up for a defection 
it experienced a few years ago. One of the three 
Episcopal churches, called before the Revolution, 
the King's chapel, soon after the conclusion of the 
war, changed its faith, renounced the doctrine of 
the Trinity, keeping the written prayers of the 
former church with such alterations as the change 
of tenets rendered necessary, and became openly an 
Unitarian church. A circumstance so remarkable 
might seem, at a distance, to be attended with in- 
superable obstacles. But you know that the edifi- 
ces here are not the property of the state, as in 
Europe, but of the individuals who compose the 
congregation ; and that they hav e a right to dis- 
pose of them as they please. The church had lost 
by the Revolution, some of its members, as well as 
its rector, who were refugees, and the influence 
and persuasion of their new pastor carried a majo- 
rity of those who remained. According to the 
practice of our country, the majority governed ; the 
subject was regularly debated in the congregation, 
and the new creed adopted by a great plurality. 
Those who adhered to the ancient faith sold their 
property in the church, and joined themselves to 
congregations who maintained it. The proceed- 
ings were all fair and open, and there was no op- 
pression, though many mourned for this startling 
defection. 

You will here excuse a little digression on the 
subject of the name of this church, which has 
caused much anxietv about our political soundness; 

12 



90 

particularly in those quarters where "patriotism'"^ 
is fed from such abundant sources, that it has over- 
flowed the bounds of our own country, and covered 
plunder and piracy, if reports be true, to no incon- 
siderable extent. Before the Revolution it was 
called The King''s Chapel; after that epoch, the 
Stone Chapel, as a distinction, when there was no 
other church built of that material, and latterly it 
has taken the name of King^s Chapel. This was 
done in order to hold a legacy devised by a person 
who died many years ago, and which, when it 
came to the church, had, through the great increase 
in the value of property, risen to an income of 12 
or 1300 dollars a year. It was devised to the 
rector, wardens and vestry of the King's Chapel, 
for certain purposes, and a resumption of the name, 
though without the definite article, was necessary 
to hold the bequest. Thus much for the name ; 
but something more singular is connected with this 
affair. The testator did not probably foresee the 
political changes, and certainly not the religious 
ones, that have taken place. Experience has prov- 
ed that there were many more things in the world 
" than were dreamt of in his philosophy." A part 
of the income, and what at the time he perhaps 
thought would be the largest part, he directed 
should be paid to certain clergymen for preaching, 
during Lent, sermons on particular subjects, some 
of which were the great points of orthodox faith. 
This of course must be complied with, and the 
walls on those occasions echo with the sounds of 



91 

ancient doctrines, which they had long ceased to 
reverberate. The rector, a man of singular purity 
and elevation of sentiment, it was said objected to 
receiving this legacy under these conditions, but the 
church had a right to it in law, and had perhaps no 
alternative but to claim it. 

A preparation for a gradual dereliction of the 
dogmas of orthodoxy had been silently, and almost 
imperceptibly, making in the congregational chur- 
ches for ^a long period. The austere and bigoted 
character of religious opinions and habits, during 
the first generations of the colony, together with 
the great leading principle of all fanatics and ultra 
Christians, that faith is every thing and works 
nothing, became repugnant to the people, when 
greater variety of pursuits, and more enlightened 
views, were laid open to them. The discipline of 
earlier times was not relaxed without a struggle, 
and occasional attempts that were made to enforce 
it in all its vigour, more surely prepared its future 
abandonment. The semblance was kept up after 
the reality was extinct. Such a state of things had 
a pernicious tendency to disgust men with what 
they ought to reverence ; and aided by the sarcastic 
tone of infidelity, which pervaded many fashionable 
writings of the last generation ; was constantly in- 
creasing that class of persons who were rigid in 
their observances, because it aided their worldly 
designs, and were therefore fully convinced that 
religion was an excellent thing for others. Those 
who had purer views, found it necessary to re- 



92 

iiounce what was tyrannical and inlolerant in for- 
mer practice, to keep up with the progress ot 
intelligence, and to narrow the sphere of hypocrisy. 
In the mean time, the number of writings under 
different names, according to their different degrees 
of dissent from ancient fundamental points of 
orthodoxy, had prodigiously increased. The En- 
glish, and more especially the Germans, after hav- 
ing buried the Classics under vast accumulations of 
commentaries, began to submit the Bible to their 
exegetical researches ; and passages which involv- 
ed the laith and perhaps the peace of millions, were 
to be expunged as forgeries, or erroneous transla- 
tions, from the collation of antique MSS. I am 
not quite convinced, that this is expedient ; though 
I am far from denying the prodigious learning of 
some of those commentators, or the great services 
they have rendered to theological students. We 
do not live in an age, or in a country, where it will 
be possible to doubt of the advantages generally, 
of free inquiry, and yet there are topics where it 
would be worse than useless. Biblical criticism is 
now pursued in the same spirit that investigated the 
ancient Classics, with a profound reverence for 
adverbs and prepositions, and very little deference 
to any thing else. Pedants and sophists will up- 
hold this practice, but before the matter descends 
to their competency, many previous questions will 
occur to considerate men. Perhaps they might 
decide that the former should continue the pursuit, 
and that the breath of time would blow away their 



93 

chaff and leave the grains of wheat behind. There 
seems, however, to be a mean betwixt the super- 
stition and craft that would retain the Bible in a 
dead language, or keep it from being read at all ; 
and the rashness that would subject it to all the 
trials of profane analysis, and all the experiments 
of scholastic vanity. 

The metaphysicians come readily to the aid of 
the grammarians, and if the one cannot get rid of 
the words, the other involves the sense in dark con- 
fusion. The union of metaphysics with religion, 
is almost always disastrous to the latter.* They 
either blast it with doctrines, that turn its genial 
influence into an inconceivable system, fit only to 
engender despair and horror, or they involve it in a 
maze of sophistry, that destroys a part, and leaves 
fhe rest uncertain. The pious, useful servant of 
God, in singleness of heart, has nothing to do with 
either, while he is pointing out to his followers the 
consolations they may derive during this transitory 
state of evil and suffering ; or teaching them how to 
render themselves worthy of them, and the higher 
existence they promise. When 1 hear one of these 
film-gathering metaphysicians toiling and twisting 
about in vain subtleties, and beating his poor brain 
against the impervious, invisible medium, through 

*VVhen metaphysics lead to mysticism under female agency, the mischief may 
be extensive, and the consequences are sometimes similar witli oiiaracters the 
most unlike, and in circumstances wholly different. A curious parallel might be 
drawn between archbishop Fenelon and Madame Guyon in Paris ; sir Harry Vane 
and Airs. Hutchinson in Boston ; and the Emperor Alexander and Madame 
Krudener at St. Petersburg ; the quiet of the state made il necessary to banish 
each of these ladies. 



94 

which the light is transmitted to it ; and not satis- 
fied with that light, endeavouring to gain, with his 
gross corporeal faculties, the knowledge of ethereal 
things, to soar into the glorious air of heaven, which 
can only support the purified spirit; it recalls to 
mind one of those luckless insects, which having 
got into the room on a summer's day, exhausts 
one's patience by buzzing and thumping against 
the pane of glass, that he mistakes for an opening 
into the air as well as the light, and through which 
he vainly endeavours to pass, till tired and spent 
with his efforts, he falls into a corner and is forgot- 
ten. 

This desertion of the ancient platform was well 
understood, but little talked about, until a few years 
shice, when the churches of the congregational 
order in Boston had all their pulpits filled with 
young men : — some of these, gifted with the bright-* 
est talents and the purest feelings, have been since, 
alas ! too untimely removed. Their immediate 
predecessors differed but little from them ; yet the 
great change of tenets seemed to attract more ob- 
servation, when all the fathers were removed, and 
the talents of these young men excited the admira- 
tion of their friends and the envy of others. Still 
no controversy existed, except some indirect skir- 
mishing in periodical works. The taste for polemi- 
cal divinity was almost extinct among enlightened 
people. Points of faith were rarely subjects of dis- 
cussion ; charity in its widest sense, the practice of 
the moral virtues, and attendance on public worship, 



95 

had been the principal subjects inculcated, and 
were generally held in the most estimation ; devo- 
tion to particular dogmas, had been converted into 
affection for their pastor in the breasts of his parish- 
ioners; and clergymen, not creeds, were the sub- 
jects of conversation. This was admirably exem- 
plified in the sly remark of a celebrated foreigner, 
whose extensive knowledge of our country makes 
his society a constant source of delight and instruc- 
tion ; and who being asked at the south, after hav- 
ing visited Boston, whether he did not hear a great 
deal of conversation about religion there ? replied, 
No, not exactly so, I did not hear much said aboiU 
religion in Boston, hut I heard a great deal of talk 
about ministers. This state of calm, so unusual in 
the regions of theology, was wonderfully continu- 
ed ; it was broken at last by an attack from the 
Calvinists a year or two since, that was meant to 
provoke a discussion, which it seemed indeed im- 
possible to avoid, since it accused men of disingenu- 
ousness and duplicity, who were incapable of such 
practices. 

Calvinism has seldom appeared to more disad- 
vantage, positively and negatively, than in this dis- 
cussion. I do not now allude to the merit of the 
pamphlets that were written ; you will not suppose 
me to have taken any interest in the most unprofita- 
ble of all vanities, a theological controversy; nor 
do I refer to the gentlemen who wrote on the part 
of the assailants, but to the first causes, the secret 
movers of this dispute. Those, however, who 



96 

knew nothing of this, but engaged in it to obtain 
an advantage to their cause, must have been great- 
ly disappointed. The crisis in other limes might 
have been dangerous to the defendants ; but they 
probably gained rather than lost by it. The lesson 
will not be useless to the others, if it is improved 
to all the extent of its bearings. On this occasion 
a gentleman, who is remarkable for the promptness 
of his zeal, and the ability with which his pen fol- 
lows it, though a layman, took a part, moved by 
warm affection for his friends, and indignation 
against their enemies. His pamphlet had this title, 
" Are you a Calvinist or a Christian !" A Dutch 
gentleman who was here at the time, saw this pub- 
lication, and 1 was much amused with the comic ex- 
pression of surprise he exhibited at this title, for 
the book I found he would not read. What, said 
he, the Calvinists are not Christians ! and he resolv- 
ed with true filial piety to send home two copies 
of it to his poor mother, who had carefully though 
vainly inculcated upon him, that the converse of 
the proposition was the truth. 

Allow me, before I proceed, to explain to 
whom I refer, in speaking harshly of Calvinism. 
Far be it from me to think ill of the Calvinists as 
a body, for it would be thinking ill of a large ma- 
jority of my countrymen, enrolled in different sects. 
It is not of those theoretical Calvinists, who serve 
wnder a rigid creed, and yet have their bosoms 
filled with the love of their neighbour; and who 
endeavouring all things, hoping all tilings, even of 



97 

those who do not believe with them, do not go in 
pursuit qf that neighbour, to the confines of the 
earth, overlooking with sour contumely the wretch 
who is pining before them. I would not think iU" 
of any person for believing too much, which cer- 
tainly is not the prevailing error of our times, pro- 
vided his faith does not make him disdainful of 
good works. But it is of those practical Calvinists, 
whose rancorous ambition makes them the tyrants 
of society; who illustrate their faith by treating 
mankind as though they were really a herd of vil- 
lains and convicts ; who attempt to make innocent 
amusements serious offences, teaching that it is 
dangerous to go to a ball or a concert, and per- 
fectly harmless to frequent evening lectures. Men 
who are voluntary, public accusers, and forming a 
self-constituted tribunal, animated by the spirit of 
the inquisition, but fortunately without its power. 
It is of those who make Calvinism the means of 
promoting worldly views, and temporal domina- 
tion ; a combination, which if not the most dan- 
gerous, is the most odious, that human character 
can present. 

Among the congregational churches, there is one 
Avhich has receded but little from the ancient line, 
and maintains what is called, moderate Calvinism. 
There were a few individuals, however, who were 
not satisfied with this ; and a handsome meeting- 
house was built by them some years since, in a 
fashionable part of the town. They began their 
course under the guidance of one of tlie most 
13 



98 

athletic of the sect. He gave them the most fervid 
and frequent descriptions of the burning lake, until 
its glare seemed flashing round the walls ; he placed 
before them all the nations of India, a vast " cur- 
rent of souls rushing into it;" he calculated with 
inimitable precision, " making allowance for low 
latitudes and omitting infants and small children, 
how many plunged into this gulph every day, every 
hour, every minute ;" yet with many similar topics 
of edification, urged with great zeal and force, his 
ministry was not very flourishing ; and after a time 
he returned to his former friends, where such truths 
were probably better received. The church under 
its present pastor is more successful. It has been a 
favourite object to establish it, and visits have been 
paid by some of the most eminent Presbyterian 
clergymen from other states. Their preaching in 
this town gave very little pleasure, at least to those 
who were not their immediate followers. They 
urged with vehemence the most difficult dogmas of 
their creed, which had little tendency to per- 
suade ; and the imprecations they made use ot 
caused, in those who were not accustomed to them, 
a shuddering disgust. 

There are seven or eight churches that are some- 
times called Unitarian, but you must not understand 
that they are all strictly so, or that they agree in 
their creed. Probably no two of them agree ex- 
actly. There are shades of difference among those 
who have ceased to acknowledge the doctrine of the 
Trinity, but some have diverged much more than 



99 

others. A part of them would be satisfactory to 
the orthodox, on most points of their preaching : 
g^enerallj their discourses turn more on morality 
and the great practical duties of christians, on the 
love of God and our neighbour, on which two com- 
mandments hang all the law and the prophets, than 
on points of faith. But this independence leaves 
each to follow his own judgment exclusively, and 
opens a wide extent for sermonizing; and if in one 
of these churches you hear a sermon, which would 
not be disowned by any of the great divines of the 
last century, you may go to another, and endure a 
discussion on Madame de Stael and the Edinburgh 
Review. 

It ought to be mentioned, to the honour of our 
Unitarians, that they have not much of the prose- 
lyting spirit, and the little they have exhibited, 
was perhaps in self-defence. Zeal in this way 
would be extremely incongruous in them ; it would 
be like eating an ice-cream with a hot spoon. 
Here there is not much to fear ; hitherto the sym- 
pathy of liberal minds has been in favour of the 
Unitarians, even among those who regretted the 
course they followed ; not only on account of the 
virtues and talents which they possessed, but be- 
cause it was felt that their cause involved the gen- 
eral possession of religious, and, in some respects 
of civil liberty. The rancorous spirit that was op- 
posed to them, aimed at universal influence. Pub- 
lic feeling, however, is now very enlightened and 
impartial on these points ; and if it would not 



100 

endure the burning of Servetus in an auto da fe, 
neither would it allow of a bull Unigenitus, to 
excommunicate the Jansenists. 

A political domination, by any religious sect, can 
never happen again in our fortunate country. Some 
attempts that were made here, such as giving the An- 
dover Theological College a right of forcing a creed 
upon their students, and the plan of disfranchising 
the citizens on the holiest day of the week, and fil- 
ling the country with spies and petty tyrants under 
the name of Tythingmen, failed in a manner that 
will preclude a repetition. The Sabbatists rely 
upon the fourth commandment to support their 
Jewish observance of the Sabbath, yet the Icono- 
clasts might as well cite the authority of the second, 
for destroying every statue in the houses of our 
dilletanti, or the signs of our inns : a literal applica- 
tion of either of these commandments to the present 
state of society, would be equally absurd and im- 
practicable ; and the Christian dispensation has 
clearly restricted the rigid minuteness of those two 
commandments, which were so remarkably design- 
ed for a particular people, under peculiar circum- 
stances, and for a period which has been accom- 
plished. Connecticut was the last state where any 
power was exercised in this way, and this has been 
lately subverted, and its agents covered with signal 
confusion. Of all the privileges of this glorious 
country, there is none more magnificent, than its 
entire exemption from political despotism, clothed 
in the garb of religion. There is no lesson that 



101 

we are destined to teach mankind, no exairple that 
we hold out to them so fraught with wisdom, so 
productive of beneficent resuks, as the entire seve- 
rance of church and state ; giving to the former all 
the rights which the latter can protect, and none 
of the power it can abuse. Though we never 
suffered so much as the nations of Europe, from 
the incalculable evils that are every where created 
by this union, so noxious to both, and so useless to 
every thing but abuse, yet we arrived gradually at 
the perfect system we now enjoy. The state is 
relieved from a troublesome burden, and religion 
from a dangerous protector. The former, where 
a connexion exists, is often in the most imminent 
danger from the quarrels of the latter ; and this in 
its turn, is sure to be made basely subservient to 
the intrigues of the other. When we take into 
view the innumerable calamities, the desolating 
wars, the horrible persecutions, and the withering 
tyranny that has resulted from this fatal system ; 
and in despite of the progress of intelligence, the 
enormous evils it is even now causing to the most 
enlightened nations of Europe, we may pride our- 
selves, from having first practically shown the safety 
and advantages of an opposite course, on being the 
benefactors of mankind. 

It would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to give 
the numbers belonging to these different sects. In 
Boston the non-orthodox of the Congregational class 
greatly prevail ; and there are many congregations 
of the same negative description in other parts of 



102 

the eastern states ; the majority however are Cal- 
vinistic, though there are many clergymen who 
avoid dwelling exclusively on the five points in 
their exhortations, and who adopt a mild course of 
practice, without positively renouncing ancient doc- 
trines, which they think it inexpedient to subvert. 

In Connecticut the Congregationalists are almost 
exclusively Calvinists, and the latter creed predomi- 
nates throughout New-England. Since the Calvin- 
ists lost the control of the university at Cambridge, 
they have set up a theological college for themselves 
at Andover. This seminary has been very liberally 
endowed, and is in a flourishing state, having about 
seventy students qualifying themselves for the pulpit. 
They are taught a creed, which is a mixture of Cal- 
vinism and Hopkinsianism ; but assent to the creed 
must be voluntary, the legislature having refused to 
indulge the college in forcing their creed on the stu- 
dents. The professors are men of learning and 
ability, and the institution is in a growing condition. 

Clergymen have much more social intercourse 
with laymen here, than in the middle states. This 
is a modification only of former custom. They 
originally exercised a vigilant influence over every 
thing that was done in civil as well as in church 
affairs, and the respect due to their station was 
every where felt. Their watchfulness over their 
flock extended to a minute observance of all their 
movements ; and the interdiction of many innocent 
amusements, was seconded by a close inspection of 
the habits of private life. This was continued till 



103 

the Revolution. Since that time, the clergy have 
been glad to get rid of an odious species of inquisi- 
tion, which their parishioners would be apt now to 
consider in the light of a usurpation. Reserving 
all the right of remonstrating with those communi- 
cants who give occasion to any scandal, they leave 
the ordinary routine of society, to be regulated by 
the discretion and prudence of those who compose 
it. Their society is always courted, and it is one 
of their difficulties to avoid entertainments, that 
would consume too much of their time. They are 
frequently met with in social parties, where they 
are always welcome. It is obvious, that this 
species of intercourse must be attended with the 
best consequences. Their presence imposes a deli- 
cate kind of restraint, not the less strong, because 
nothing is assumed, which tends to keep conversa- 
tion from becoming licentious, or indulgence immo- 
derate. Religion itself loses none of its charms, 
when its ministers, by their personal intercourse, 
condescend to a cheerful approbation of innocent 
gayety and refined amusement. 

I will conclude this long letter, by giving you an 
opinion, that the Episcopal church will hereafter 
increase, and hold, at no very distant day, a much 
larger relative proportion to other denominations 
than it now does ; and I will offer you a brief state- 
ment of the reasons, on which this opinion is found- 
ed. You may put down what you please to any 
prepossession, which you may suppose me to have, 
when J tell you that I am an Episcopalian. As 



104 

to the difference between the Presbyterian and 
Episcopal forms, I should say as Counsellor Pley- 
dell did to Colonel Mannering — " I hope a plain 
man may go to heaven without thinking about 
them at all ; but I love to pray where my fathers 
prayed before me, without thinking worse of the 
Presbyterian forms, because they do not affect me 
with the same associations." The case will now 
come fairly before you. 

Accompany me back to the origin of the colony. 
— Our ancestors were driven into non-conformity 
by the arrogance, the bigotry, and the indiscretion 
of prelates, who met a restless and inquiring spirit, 
with a more extensive display of ceremonial obser- 
vances, and a more eager assertion of supremacy. 
Archbishop Laud, in particular, who seems to have 
had a strong leaning towards the Romish church, 
by requiring the most rigid attention to what a 
more liberal age would consider trifles, drove some 
of the ablest scholars and purest minds among his 
clergy into dissent ; continued persecution made 
them more untractable, and finally exasperated them 
into a thorough non-conformity. This country was 
opened as an asylum, and they and their followers, 
disgusted with a hierarchy, which exhibited too 
many examples of the priest, and too tew of the 
pastor, fled to it for shelter. A voyage across the 
Atlantic, in onr times a mere pleasurable trip, was 
then far otherwise. Grief and hatred were deeply 
nourished against those, who had driven them into 
a distant and danfirerous exile. The individuals 



105 

particularly who first went to Holland, and came 
afterwards to Plymouth, saw Calvmism in all its 
vigour in that country, and profited by their visit ; 
but among the first emigrants, there were some who 
did not wish to renounce the Episcopal church 
entirely, because of the abuses which had crept into 
it. Some of these are mentioned by an early 
writer, who styles them " godly Episcopalians," and 
who would never join themselves with the indepen- 
dent congregations, assigning this pithy reason — 
" that they had left England because they did not 
like the lord bishops, but they could not join with 
them, because they would not be under the lord 
brethren.'''' Those who came to Salem hesitated 
what course to adopt. Episcopacy was given up 
with some reluctance, but at that time they would 
not probably have secured their freedom, if they had 
not become independents ; — yet, if Episcopacy had 
been then, what it now is, cleared of many excres- 
cences and useless repetitions in the service, purified 
from several idle ceremonies, and emancipated from 
a hierarchy that depended on a distant sovereign, and 
not on the people of its charge, a considerable 
number, at least of the first setilers, would have 
gladly maintained it. 

It is indeed fortunate that Episcopacy was not 
established ; if it had been, and the people had con- 
tinued as much under the influence of religion, the 
Revolution would have been long procrastinated. 
A clergy dependent on a foreign appointment, 
would have always bowed to that power, and 
14 



106 

sacrificed the interests of their followers to their own 
personal aggrandizement. This would have been 
the natural consequence ; the examples now before 
our eyes in some countries of Europe, show how 
extensive is the mischief it occasions. In this 
country the Episcopal clergy were almost all un- 
friendly to the Revolution, and their influence was 
constantly exerted against it. This kept alive a 
feeling of jealousy and dislike towards the church, 
founded on very just and sufficient motives. 

The same tone of subservience to a patron and 
haughty demeanour to the parishioners, which is 
not very uncommon in England, would, in the 
course of time, have been felt here with increased 
force, since the patron was essentially indiiferent to 
the interests of the country. The numerous abuses 
which have crept into the church establishment in 
England, the wide departure from the primitive 
character of the clerical function, which have made 
the clergy of the established church, according to 
the just remark of an intelligent traveller, " little 
more than an aristocratic body in the state ;" would 
never have been endured by a people, who had fled 
here to avoid such evils. And till the Revolution 
severed all connexion, the Episcopal clergy were al- 
ways obnoxious to suspicion. Now that this church 
is left to itself, it has become as national in its cha- 
racter, as any other denomination ; its ministers and 
their congregations are connected from mutual 
choice, depend on each other, without any foreiga 
intervention, and the true character of the Christian 



107 

pastor being restored, the affection of his flock 
follows of course. 

Episcopacy being thus freed from the alloy of 
temporal power, from the scandal of sinecures and 
the odiousness of simony ; the rector of a church 
stands in that relation which would have prevented 
one of the original causes of dissent ; and the sect 
enjoys the advantages of a very ancient, venerable 
form of church government, the want of which has 
often proved inconvenient to the Congregationalists. 
The service, as it is adopted in this country, retains 
all that is essential, and is freed from what was 
mere ceremony and repetition ; which superstition, 
and the fear of innovation, still retain in England. 
Episcopacy, as it exists in Scotland, is on the same 
foundation that it is in the United States ; purified 
from all political influence, it is hardly an object of 
jealousy to the sour, dominating intolerance of 
Presbyterians. Episcopal ordination, to say no 
more, is at least as valid as Presbyterian ; and I 
have heard clergymen, both of the orthodox and 
liberal description, say they should be very willing 
to adopt a form of prayer, if their congregations 
would give their assent. 

The ancient prayers used in this church, so 
admirable for their simplicity, pathos, comprehen- 
siveness, and humility, can hardly be repeated 
without emotion. The facility and assistance, 
which these written prayers give to fix attention 
and assist devotion, are obvious. The particular 
services of the church especially, impress deeply 



108 

even those Avho have not been bred in its forms. 
Thus the profound solemnity and impressiveness 
of the marriage and funeral services, have sometimes 
caused them to be used by persons who belonged 
to other sects. There is, too, something gratifying 
and ennobling, in the associations they awaken ; to 
kneel to the same exercises, to repeat the same 
prayers, that so many millions, so many great, good, 
and illustrious of the human race have said before 
us, during so many centuries ; appears to connect 
us with past ages, with the generations that are 
gone, and we almost seem to partake of the dignity 
that is attached to what is ancient and permanent. 

In the first zeal and hurry of secession, extempo- 
raneous prayers, being then replete with enthusiasm, 
may be fully entered into by an audience under the 
impulse of the same feelings. But this system in 
general supposes greater gifts in the preacher, and 
greater abstraction and power of concentrating 
attention in the hearer, than falls to the lot of most 
preachers, or most congregations : and unless very 
unusual powers exist, the effect is not very edifying. 
A congregation becomes cold, listless, and impatient, 
Avhile the preacher is hesitating in his supplications, 
stringing together ill-assorted texts of scripture ; or 
what is intolerable, metaphysical subtleties, puerile 
novelties and prettinesses of expression. The dan- 
ger too is great, of running into mere brilliant dis- 
play, and giving occasion to such a remark, as was 
once made on a particular prayer, of which it was 
observed ; " that it was the most eloquent prayer 



109 

ever addressed to a Boston audience," The Pres- 
byterian system of prayer, is so unfavourable to 
devotion in an audience, so adapted to indolence 
and indifference — such a strange evasion of the 
duty of prayer, by substituting one individual to 
pray for all ; that it must have been introduced by 
the first founders, because they could not separate 
the prayers of the church from its corruptions, and 
were afraid to retain any one principle, lest some 
abuses should come w ith it. Otherwise, the recital 
of prayers by the whole congregation accompany- 
ing the minister, would seem one of the most use- 
ful, indispensable forms; appropriately terminated 
by his separately asking the blessing of heaven on 
his flock. The deep sympathy, the pervading emo- 
tion, that can wrap and blend a whole congregation 
in the orisons of the preacher, can exist only at 
rare periods and under the excitements of some 
interesting occasion, or of the most powerful talents.. 
In a general way, a quiet and decent attention is 
the utmost that can be expected ; and this very re- 
pose will be apt to lead some minds into wide ex- 
cursions of thought ; while the attention of others 
will be interrupted by the passing of a carriage, the 
fall of a book, or the rustling of a breeze. 

There are inconveniences attending the course 
pursued by the liberal party among Congregational- 
ists, from the want of some standard to confine the 
aberrations of teachers within known limits. Other- 
wise, there seems to be no security that posterity 
will be content with the doctrines they now retain ; 



110 

but they may find something in these which they 
cannot understand, and if the progress of improve- 
ment continues till there is no mystery left, it is 
extremely difficult to say, how much of Christianity 
will be finally tolerated. If, however, there should 
always be enough to constitute a distinct sect, and 
satisfy the refined and enlightened portion of society 
with a pure system of morality ; there will be many- 
seceders who require a certain degree of awe and 
veneration to enter into their religious feelings. 
The most beautiful morality will seem cold to 
many minds, if it is not given in connexion with 
what is awful and even mysterious. Satisfaction in 
religion does not require the same demonstration, as 
in mathematics. Mystery surrounds us every 
where ; the existence of the world, of ourselves, 
every object in nature, is lost in obscurity at last ; 
the origin and termination are alike unknown ; and 
we are obliged to refer the whole to a Being, whose 
first, necessary attribute, infinity, is utterly incom- 
prehensible. Some mystery in religion seems ana- 
logous to what we see in nature, whose operations 
elude even the crucible and microscope ; and the 
degree of indistinctness occasioned by the former, 
calls in the solace of faith, to compensate for diffi- 
culties that assail our reason, on which many repose 
with confidence and hope. A scheme, therefore, 
made perfectly clear to mere human intelligence, 
however closely interwoven with a pure morality, 
will not suffice for all ; and under such a system of 
preaching, several would be inclined to make the 



Ill 

complaint, though with less coarseness and violence, 
of the old woman in the Tales of my Landlord,— 
" For souls are hardened and deadened, and the 
"mouths of fasting multitudes are crammed wi^ 
*' fizenless bran, instead of the sweet word in season ; 
" and mony an hungry, starving creature, when he 
" sits down on a Sunday forenoon to get something 
" that might warm him to the great work, has a 
" dry clatter of morality driven about his lugs." 

The adoption of the Episcopal form would pre- 
vent some of this difficulty. The liturgy, embody- 
ing the ancient, venerable, sublime doctrines of 
Christianity, clothed in the language of the fathers 
and the apostles, will satisfy the feelings of those 
who have been taught to venerate those doctrines ; 
who demand something more than a system of 
rhetoric and geometry for their religious feelings, 
and who are ready to give the quia impossibile est, 
as a reason for their belief. Assent may be given 
to those doctrines with different shades of convic- 
tion ; as it must have been by the millions who 
have professed them. All rational minds may find 
shelter within its pale. Those who prefer to 
preach, or to hear a frequent repetition of the great 
tenets of orthodoxy, may pursue them to the very 
brink of the Calvinistic gulf ; while those who love 
rather to dwell on the maxims and injunctions in 
the moral code of the gospel, are at full liberty to 
pursue it. If a preacher has a congregation, whose 
callous and sluggish habits require strong stimu- 
lants, he may administer them ; and another who 



112 

presides over a more refined and feeling people, 
may edify them with the topics of charity and 
devotion. 

In the ancient colony laws, fines and imprison- 
ment were laid upon the heinous offender, who 
dared to celebrate that immortal day, which for 
seventeen centuries at least, has excited the joy and 
devotion of the Christian world. Our ancestors 
dreaded mince pies as dangerous to the soul, which 
are now considered as noxious only to the body. 
A voluntary, spontaneous, and natural approxima- 
tion to the practice of the great majority of Chris- 
tians, in celebrating the festival of Christmas, is 
growing into a habit among our different sects. If 
the numerous fasts and feasts of the Roman Church 
are an excess in one direction, is not the refusal to 
commemorate the great festival and fast of the 
church, an extravagance in another? What would 
seem more natural, or more impressive, than the 
religious observation of those two days, the coming 
and departing of the Divine author of our religion ; 
the one as a day of thanks and gratitude to God, 
the other of humiliation and grief? And yet they 
were once denounced as grievous abominations. 
The practice of reading the Bible publicly was also 
proscribed, and the Lord's Prayer is still but seldom 
used ;* yet how blind and bigoted must he be that 

* The custom of saying prayers over the dead, at least an innoceut ceremony 
was long dreaded as a popish practice. The first instance where prayer was 
used at a funeral, by congreffationalists, was when the Rev. Dr. May hew wai 
l>uried ia 1766, and the Brst funeral sernjon was on the death of Dr. Cooper, 



113 

would not be ashamed of such neglect, when the 
danger of doing any thing that is practised in the 
church, can no longer be feared ! The service of 
the church, which comprises its prayers and por- 
tions of scripture, presents something stable, a 
secure resting place for devotion, which is satisfied 
by these, when it may not be edified by the sermon. 
This advantage will not be lightly estimated by 
those reflecting minds, who look to future conse- 
quences. For in the course of time, with the in- 
evitably lessening interest which is felt in loose, 
uncertain prayers that are said for them ; and with 
the dereliction of those severe and mysterious doc- 
trines, that keep zeal alive, what will be the motive 
for going to a place of worship, except to hear an 
able or brilliant discourse ? and when that becomes 
the predominant inclination, what will be the de- 
gree of difference between such a congregation, and 
a respectable audience attending to one of our 
annual orations, or listening to the recital of Col- 
lins' Ode on the Passions ? This is exemplified in 
a way, that would appear very strange to persons 
not accustomed to it. It is a general practice to 
inquire of those who have been to meeting, " How 
did you like the sermon ? Was it a new one ? 
Were you pleased with the prayer ? — and corres- 
ponding remarks in return. O yes, the sermon 
was a delightful one — It was a very brilliant dis- 
course ; his prayer pleased me very well ; there were 
some fine expressions in it, but it was too long." A 
solemn act of public worship is talked of. and criti- 

15 



114 

cised very much in the same way, as if it was 
an academical exercise, that the individual had 
attended. 

The ])urposes of ambition can no longer be 
promoted by belonging to any particular sect. It 
is now never, I believe, a question in any case, what 
sect a man belongs to, by those who are to place 
him in any civil or political station. A candidate 
derives no more influence from being a Congrega- 
tionalist, than from being a Baptist or an Epis- 
copalian, which was not always the case. Some 
opposition was made a few years since to the re- 
election of a very excellent governor, because he 
was a Unitarian, but this opposition was peculiar, 
and probably would not occur again. The domi- 
nation of a particular sect could not now exist, 
however powerful such a sect might be ; and since 
the Congregationalists have separated and formed 
in reality two sects, the Liberal and the Calvinistic, 
the power they once possessed is broken. The 
choice of a form of worship is therefore uninflu- 
enced by any worldly considerations. 

I may add one circumstance more : no sectarian 
triumph can be gained by this suggested increase 
of Episcopacy. If it takes place, it is a mere ques- 
tion of expediency with the individual, and no ad- 
vantage can arise to those who are now Episcopa- 
lians. This church, to its honour, is not a prose- 
lyting one ; and the " genteel indiflerence" for 
which it is proverbial, is true here, as elsewhere. 
No ill will can therefore be excited against it on 



115 

this account. Nothing indeed ought to inspire 
more distrust, than the spirit of making proselytes 
among different Christian sects. It is very natural 
that a good man, who is sincere in his convictions, 
should desire to see others adopt the same senti- 
ments ; and his benevolence may sometimes lead 
him into the error of attempting to induce them 
to join with him. This disposition ought to be 
cautiously guarded against. However a man may 
deceive himself, vanity has a share in it ; it is often 
associated with the most dangerous passions of the 
human breast, ambition and avarice ; and whenever 
it prevails to any extent and for any length of time, 
religion becomes only the cover for their gratifica- 
tion. 

Generally speaking, religion is honoured here, 
and bigotry has much decreased. A regular atten- 
dance on public worship is almost universal. The 
state leaves every man to choose what religion he 
pleases, but obliges him to a slight contribution for 
the support of some one. The stipends of the clergy 
are regulated by agreement between them and their 
congregations, and when once stipulated, are re- 
coverable by law so long as the agreement subsists. 
In the country there is sometimes a parsonage with 
a small farm attached to it ; the occupancy of this, 
with a supply of firewood, and from 200 to 1000 
dollars a year, constitute the emoluments. In larger 
towns it may be something more, and in the capi- 
tal is from two to three thousand dollars a year, 
which is not more than enough to meet the increas- 



116 

ed expenses ; in congregations where the minister 
does not receive very considerable presents, there is 
not so much liberality, when the respective means 
and expenses of living are considered, as is shown 
in many of the country parishes. On the whole, 
the religious condition is in the highest degree for- 
tunate ; there is no coercion ; every sect is protected, 
and the clergy are respected and beloved. 



LETTER IV. 



COMMERCE. 



My DEAR Sin, 

In attempting to give you some account of the 
commerce of this section, I can hardly expect to 
offer any thing now ; yet as you have been, per- 
haps, in the habit of considering rather the results 
of the entire trade of the United States, than of 
any other particular part ; a cursory view of 
the commercial resources of the Eastern states in 
particular, may, by comparison, give more distinct 
ideas of the whole. I do not mean to offer you 
minute statements, or amounts in figures, which 



117 

would only be giving extracts from some of our 
statistical works ; but to make a few general obser- 
vations on the principal resources which we pos- 
sess. 

The first of these, undoubtedly, is to be found in 
our population, its numbers and character. Between 
the southern frontiers of Connecticut and the eas- 
tern one of Maine, there are eight hundred miles of 
sea-coast, containing numerous harbours ; several 
rivers, navigable for sea vessels, from twenty to an 
hundred miles, empty themselves within these 
limits. Almost the whole of this coast, and the 
banks of these rivers, are lined with inhabitants, 
accustomed to commercial and maritime affairs. 
This region is so healthful, that besides supplying 
these increasing branches of employment, it annu- 
ally sends off a surplus, to meet the demands of 
less healthy and less populous shores. The whole 
of this population receives the rudiments of edu- 
cation in a sufficient degree, to qualify even its 
poorest members for advancing their fortunes, if 
they have the skill and disposition to better them. 
The excitement produced by the great wealth, 
which has accrued from the pursuit of commerce 
during the last thirty years, keeps this population in 
a state of restless activity, calculating observation, 
and adventurous euierprise, which, without any ex- 
aggeration, may be said to be unequalled by any 
other country. 

A considerable part of this population, thus con- 
veniently situated, is early accustomed to look for 



118 

a living from the ocean, which breaks at their feet , 
a soil comparatively sterile forces them in some sort 
to share, by freighting the products of richer 
climes ; they take to the water as easily, and almost 
as early as the broods of water fowls ; they pass as 
much of their time on shore, as those sea-birds which 
only resort to it to make their nests ; their path is on 
t' the mountain wave," and like the same birds, they 
float on it gaily and fearlessly, if the daily reckoning 
only shows the desired difference in latitude and 
longitude. As a nursery of seamen, this district 
affords one of the most valuable in the world. 
The whale fishery, which is carried on in both 
oceans, the fishery of the banks of Newfoundland, 
and the various fisheries nearer home, form the har- 
diest and best of sailors. The manner in which 
these fisheries are prosecuted, being not on wages, 
but on shares, gives habits of economy, watchful- 
ness and industry, that are invaluable.* The coast- 
ing trade, which is daily increasing, adds a vast 
additional supply of hardy and excellent seamen ; 
all these have their homes and families on these 

* The sailor tribe as it exists elsewhere is hardly to be found in this district. 
That heartless, reckless improvidence, the brutal and hurried waste of hard 
earned wages in the most stupid frolics, which are encouraged in England from 
obvious motives of policy ; as they tend to retain this class of men in a slavish 
state, both hopeless and motiveless on shore, are seldom exhibited among us. Al- 
most all our seamen are sober, economical and either owning some share id a 
vessel, or some land for a farm. This applies to the greater part of the popu- 
lation on the shores of Massachusetts and Maine. Most of the people near the 
fien coast of the latter have been sailors for a time, and occasionally go on some 
short voyage, if they fuid they can earn a few dollars more than by staying at 
home. There are many villages, where a population of farmers would be found 
To be good sailors in a moment if the occasion required if. 



119 

shores, to which they are strongly attached, though 
they are absent from them for weeks, months, or 
even years together. In alluding to this attach- 
ment, I cannot help recalling the mistake of a very 
acute and profound observer, which furnishes a 
very striking instance of the errors, into which 
theory is apt to lead even the ablest minds. Tal- 
leyrand, in his Essay on Colonies, speaking of our 
fishermen, considers them, " a timid, indolent race ; 
that they are cosmopolites, and a few codfish more 
or less determine their country." As to the timidi- 
ty and indolence, the expression of Burke, — 
" Every sea is vexed by their fisheries," may be a 
sufficient answer ; as to their being cosmopolites, 
and migrating with the codfish ; the latter have 
not been more steady to the submarine mountains 
of Newfoundland, than the former have been to the 
rocky and sandy shores, whence they annually go 
in pursuit of them ; and where there progenitors 
have successively resided for nearly two centuries, 
from the first settlement of the country. 

This section furnishes supplies of the various 
kinds of timber used in ship-building, and abounds 
with mechanics in all the various branches 
connected with naval construction ; with these 
advantages, ships are built here with great econo- 
my, and a very large portion of the tonnage em- 
ployed both in the foreign and coasting trade, is 
owned in these states. Having therefore the ad 
vantage of possessing an ample supply of sea 
men, and being the chief residence of the ship- 



120 

owners, they have great advantages for engaging 
profitably in the carrying trade, foreign and domes- 
tic. The produce of the fisheries, of the forest, live 
stock, salted provisions, potash, and some articles of 
manufactures, are the principal domestic exports. 
To these is to be added, the merchandize brought 
from other parts of the Union, and from foreign 
countries. The trade of the United States with 
Asia, which now employs 30,000 tons of shipping, 
is principally, perhaps three quarters of it, carried 
on by merchants of this section. The vessels en- 
gaged in this commerce, sail almost wholly in bal- 
last, taking specie to purchase their return cargoes. 
This rich trade, which has prodigiously increased 
of late years, is prosecuted here with great activity 
and advantage. The vessels employed in it are ge- 
nerally of a moderate or small size, between two 
and five hundred tons ; they are fitted out whh 
every requisite for a speedy passage, and safe trans- 
port of their cargoes, but with nothing for ostenta- 
tion. It is therefore carried on so much more eco- 
nomically, that the foreign carrier cannot enter into 
competition with it in any free market, and even 
the merchants in other parts of the United States, 
have found it less profitable than it is here. So ma- 
ny young men have commenced their career, by go- 
ing out as supercargoes ; so many able navigators, 
frequently also employed in making the investments 
of the cargo, have prosecuted this trade, that it is 
now better understood in the eastern states, than in 
any part of the world. Not only the direct trade 



121 

wilh Hindostan and China, but the trade between 
all the islands and countries of the Indian ocean, 
they thoroughly understand ; and besides our own 
country, a considerable portion of Europe is sup- 
plied by these enterprising merchants with the coffee 
and spices of the islands, the sugar and cotton, raw 
and manufactured of the Indian peninsula, and the 
silks, teas, and nankins of China. 

The commercial cities of the United States may 
be divided into two classes ; the first contains those 
which, situated on rivers at a distance from the 
coast, are the depots for the sale of the domestic 
produce of the district, which resorts to them for a 
market, and also for the supply of the same country, 
with the foreign merchandise they consume. The 
second class consists of those cities which, in addi- 
tion to these branches of trade, are, from their 
proximity to the ocean, convenient marts for gene- 
ral commerce, where every species of merchandise 
is placed in depot for subsequent distribution. In 
the first class will be found New-Orleans, Savan- 
nah, Alexandria, Baltimore, and Philadelphia ; in 
the second, some place on the Gulf of Mexico, 
Charleston, Norfolk, New-York, Boston, Salem, 
Portsmouth, and Portland, may be named. The 
fate of some of our cities seems yet undecided. 
The natural course of events will lessen the num- 
ber that will be great depots. The small places 
are drawn into the vortex of the larger ones. This 
process has been produced by Philadelphia, New- 
York, and Boston. 

16 



122 

It seems probable that some place on the Gulf of 
Mexico, east of the Mississippi, must become an 
immense mart of commerce, not only for the coun- 
tries bordering on that Gulf and the West India 
islands ; but as a seaport for New-Orleans, and 
through the latter, for the vast commerce that will 
be borne on the Mississippi. Charleston and Nor- 
folk labour under disadvantages of climate and 
population, that will prevent them from becoming 
general depots for the Atlantic states. New-York 
is daily developing a prodigious growth, which its 
position, both with regard to internal and external 
commerce, is calculated to give it. Salem transacts 
almost all its business on the Exchange of Boston. 
Portsmouth and Portland are too confined places 
in their interior trade, to flourish largely from that ; 
and with regard to foreign commerce, are less ad- 
vantageously placed than Boston, towards which 
they must naturally gravitate. 

The two principal depots of commerce on our 
Atlantic coast, will be New-York and Boston. On 
the great resources and advantages of the former it 
is not necessary to remark ; the latter only comes 
within my limits. That Boston must always be a 
considerable place of commerce, and go on to in- 
crease with a steady and certain growth for a long 
period to come, seems evident from the following 
circumstances : It is the natural centre of a district, 
whose population at present exceeds a million and 
a half, which is gradually increasing. This popu- 
lation is thriving and industrious ; Maine, and the 



123 

provinces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, 
which lie in front of it, and will always have an 
active trade with it, are in a state of progressive 
improvement, that is yet susceptible of very wide 
extension ; it is the centre of the great nursery of 
seamen, and of the business of ship-building. It 
is the chief market for all the various products of 
the fisheries, and of salted provisions ; its harbour 
is safe, commodious, and connected immediately 
with the sea ; it is the place of export for many 
valuable manufactures, long and solidly established ; 
it is in possession of a very large monied capital. 
From this last advantage, and from much experi- 
ence and knowledge of the trade with Asia, the 
largest portion of that trade, as has been before re- 
marked, is carried on from this place or its vicinity. 
This latter circumstance may not be so permanent 
as some of the others, but there seems no reason to 
doubt of its being long retained. 

A good deal of experience has been acquired 
here on the subject of banking ; and as it was not 
obtained gratuitously, its practical utility is greater, 
and the impression will not be easily obliterated. 
This is a great benefit, as mercantile transactions are 
conducted on a solid foundation, and more confidence 
is felt in their stability. On this subject, perhaps, 
more than any other, it is true that " the follies of 
the fathers are lost upon the children ; each genera- 
tion must have its own." Even our neighbours, 
who have seen the mischiefs we had suffered, have 
gone still further lengths into the same extravagan- 



124 

ces, and are now feeling even greater evils. The 
banks in Massachusetts are under good regulations ; 
they are obliged to make semi-annual returns to 
the legislature of the state of their debts, credits, 
bills in circulation, and specie in their vaults. Most 
of the country banks in this and the neighbouring 
states, are connected wath the money market ot 
Boston. The effect is nearly the same, though the 
action is different, with what takes place between 
the country banks in England and the London 
bankers. Many of the banks in this district, which 
are most active in the employment of their capital, 
keep a deposite with some of the Boston banks, 
where their bills can be redeemed at a fixed, small 
discount : this discount depends on the distance, 
and varies from | to 1 per cent, or about the cost 
of time and travel to go to the banks themselves. 
The consequence is, that these bills circulate freely, 
so long as their issues are prop'brtioned to their 
capital ; any excess is immediately checked, and if 
not corrected, the bank soon loses its credit, and is 
of course restricted. It follows, that there is little 
unreasonable prejudice against banks, and no igno- 
rant admission of any peculiar privileges for making 
money to a corporation ; nor blind submission to 
their issuing what quantities of bills they please, 
and refusing to redeem them ; though they may, 
at the same time, be vaunting a dividend of eight, 
twelve, or twenty per centum, annually. 

The essays we see in the papers of the southern 
and middle states, in which the most egregious er- 



125 

rers are frequently promulgated in the most virulent 
and inflammatory language ; show how slow is the 
progress of truth, and how inveterate and absurd pre- 
judice may become, when pecuniary interests are en- 
gaged in blinding the reason and exciting the pas- 
sions. From some things which are advanced by 
the writers and speakers of the day, it would seem 
as if they had never heard or read of any thing, 
that has taken place in banking aflairs, either in 
England or in their own country ; though there is 
hardly any question which can arise, that has ..ot 
been discussed ; and however uncertain some of 
the subordinate points may be, the fundamental 
principle, that all corporate or individual bankers 
should be held to pay their notes on demand, in the 
national medium, whether that be paper, silver, or 
gold, is fully acknowledged and maintained. Peo- 
ple who know nothing of the first principles of 
finance, and there are too many such concerned in 
banking affairs, have an idea that a bank is to cre- 
ate wealth where none exists ; — it certainly will 
change the holders of it, if the mere signatures of 
clerks are to pass as the representative of pro- 
perty. 

I knew a member of the Massachusetts legisla- 
ture, who was very anxious to get a bank in his 
town, and the principal reason he urged was, that 
considerable sums of money passed through it. — 
He had an idea, that by having a bank, they should 
catch these dollars, just as they did the salmon with 
a seine. Another member of the same legislature, 



126 

several years since, who came from a town on the 
extremity of Cape Cod, asked for a bank for his 
place, for which he gave the following reasons : — 
" That they were so poor, that a bank ought to be 
granted to them ; that the legislature had granted 
banks in the rich counties of Hampshire and Worces- 
ter, where the land was very productive, and the 
inhabitants so rich, that they could do without 
them ; but that in his part of the country there was 
nothing but sand ; that the land produced nothing, 
and that they were entitled to a bank ; and that his 
constituents would be very much dissatisfied, if an 
act of incorporation was not granted to them." The 
worthy member kept out of sight, the only argument 
that would have availed any thing — the riches which 
his constituents drew from a bank that never failed 
them, and which injured no one — the grand bank of 
Newfoundland, which would have made a bank a 
matter of convenience, where there was capital 
enough to found it upon and to employ it ; but he 
seriously cited their poverty, as an argument that 
should entitle them to a bank, from feelings of com- 
miseration on the part of the legislature. Incredi- 
ble as this may seem, it actually occurred, and in 
some of the states a similar notion prevails, that a 
bank is to create wealth like a mine ; and that the in- 
definite multiplication of engraved pieces of paper, as 
the representative of property, is an actual increase 
of that property, though in reality it diminishes its 
value. Much embarrassment and loss will arise to 
the community, where these principles of banking 



127 

are yet in process ; but after a time thej will acquire 
wisdom from suffering, and these baseless specula- 
tions will be exploded. 

The following extract from Governor PownaPs 
work on the colonies, furnishes a good specimen of 
generalizing, and I introduce it as a text for a few 
remarks of a general nature, on the subject of this 
letter. 

" In the first uncultivated ages of Europe, when 
men sought nothing but to possess, and to secure 
possession, the power of the sword was the predo- 
minant spirit of the world ; it was that w^hich formed 
the Roman empire ; and it was the same which, in 
the declension of that empire, divided it again into 
the several governments formed upon the ruins of 
it. 

" When men afterward, from leisure, began to 
exercise the power of their minds in (what is call- 
ed) learning, religion, the only learning of that 
time, led them to a concern for their spiritual inter- 
ests, and consequently led them under their spiritu- 
al guides. The power of religion would hence ajs 
naturally predominate and rule, and did actually 
become the ruling spirit of the policy of Europe, 
k was this spirit which for many ages formed and 
gave away kingdoms ; this which created the 
anointed lords over them, or again excommunicated 
and execrated these sovereigns ; this, that united and 
allied the various nations, or plunged them into war 
and bloodshed ; this, that formed the balance of the 
power of the whole, and actuated the second grand 
scene of Europe's history. 



128 

" But since the people of Europe have formed 
their communication with the commerce of Asia, 
— have been for some ages past settling on all sides 
of the Atlantic Ocean, and in America have been 
possessing every seat and channel of commerce, and 
have planted and raised that to an interest which 
has taken root ; — since they now feel the powers 
derived from this, and are extending it to and com- 
bining it with others, the spirit of commerce will 
become that predominant power, which will form 
the general policy and rule the powers of Europe ; 
and hence a grand commercial interest, the basis of 
a great commercial dominion under the present state 
and circumstances of the world, will be formed and 
arise. The rise and forming of this commercial 
interest, is what constitutes precisely the present 
crisis." 

The author's general description is correct ; the 
sword, religion, mid commerce, have been the ruling 
principles of the three periods, in which the fa- 
bled succession of the golden, silver, and iron 
ages, has been reversed in our favour. Governor 
Pownal wrote the work which has been cited sixty 
years ago, and every year since has developed more 
and more, the prevalence of commerce and its be- 
neficent consequences. It is indeed true that te- 
dious and wasting wars have defaced this period, 
and impeded, though they could not arrest, the 
progress of general prosperity. Fearful approaches 
were recently made by one nation, towards renew- 
ing the blasting rule of the sword ; but the utter 



129 

discomfiture of that power will operate against a 
repetition of the attempt, which can never again be 
made under so favourable circumstances, for even a 
chance of success. 

The motives to aid the extension of the commer- 
cial spirit, understood in its widest sense, are suffi- 
ciently strong to give them a decisive influence in the 
views of ambition and power ; if they seek only 
their own gratification and enlargement, and not the 
degradation, as well as the command, of mankind. 
Take for instance the most prominent objects of Ro- 
man grandeur, their public works; their roads, 
aqueducts, temples, theatres, and palaces, were 
magnificent ; but they have been equalled or sur- 
passed in modern times. If canals be added to 
roads, as they should be in the calculation, they will 
stand higher on the scale than even the celebrated 
ways of the Roman. Aqueducts we do not show, 
because a better knowledge of hydraulics has su- 
perseded them. In temples, they cannot compare 
with ours in size, or architectural science, though 
they may in beautiful and chaste designs, which 
were perfected by the Greeks. Their theatres were 
more vast and imposing, and the use they made of 
them was more barbarous and ignoble ; in palaces 
they perhaps exceeded the splendour, yet were infe- 
rior in accommodation to modern edifices. But 
what was the state of the people at the difierent 
periods ? Under the Roman empire, with the excep- 
tion of a very small number, the entire population 
were soldiers or labourers ; a single dres<5 of wool- 
17 



ISO 

len constituted their whole wardrobe ; their dwel- 
lings were mere niches, and nearly all their pleas- 
ures, baths, theatres and gymnasia, were public, 
eleemosynary favours. In modern times, while all 
these grand monuments have been created, a con- 
stant accumulation of comfort has been going on ; 
society has been improved and divided by imper- 
ceptible gradations into numerous classes, of which 
the meanest was equal to what constituted the 
mass of ancient population. Even for the purposes 
of conquest, the commercial system has been the 
most efficient, and has furnished the means of 
obtaining possessions, which the Roman legions 
never could have reached. Commerce not only 
increases the power of the government, but at the 
same time advances the improvement of the people. 
1 may recall to your mind on this topic a fine remark 
of Gibbon : after describing the luxury and osten- 
tation of some of the Roman patricians, he says ; 
" Yet the multiplication of glass and linen gives a 
" modern private gentleman more real comforts and 
" luxury, than a Roman proconsul could enjoy with 
'' the plunder of a province." 

If it be true, that the age of the sword was less 
conducive, not only to the happiness of mankind, 
but even to its own purposes, than the age of com- 
merce ; it is equally and more strikingly evident, that 
the age of religion continued the calamities of man- 
kind, by the incessant wars it engendered ; and 
would inevitably have destroyed its pretended object 
altogether, if the enormity of its abuses had not 



131 

produced the Reformation, and laid the way for its 
subversion. It cannot be necessary to say, that you 
will understand the author's meaning and mine in 
the use of this term, religion. The feelings of real 
religion produced the second era of which he speaks, 
but the foul adulterous spirit of despotism soon 
usurped its place, and wearing its mask, made 
Europe for centuries one wide scene of oppression, 
misery and devastation. Pure religion withered 
away, and a hideous superstition grew up in its place, 
which engendered innumerable abuses, though it 
sometimes stayed the career of profligate hypocrisy, 
and compensated for some of its mischiefs, by occa- 
sionally obstructing the cause of those who made 
use of its agency. That union of the priest and 
magistrate, of politics and religion, was then effected, 
by which the latter became subservient to the former, 
and entailed upon mankind an overwhelming bur- 
den of abuse. The evils arising from this cause 
are slowly removed ; they are still felt in every 
nation of Europe, and the deep root they have taken 
makes it almost impossible to eradicate them. Per- 
fect toleration is the only specific, and this is so 
obstinately opposed, that an entire cure will be a 
distant event, although partial remedies have miti- 
gated the disorder. We are fortunately wholly 
emancipated, and the advantageous consequences 
are shown, not only in our religious condition, but 
in the freedom and simplicity of action in our poli- 
tical movements. 



132 

How niucli more effic/ient is the influence oF coili- 
meice for the advancement of religion, than the 
supremacy of religion itself ? What advantages did 
religion derive from the actions or preaching of Peter 
the Hermit, and the whole host of crusaders ? Has 
not the founding of a single commercial colony, done 
more for the establishment and diffusion of religious 
truth, than all the hosts which, in the " age of reli- 
gion," Europe precipitated on Asia ? Does not the 
intercourse of commerce, by making men and lan- 
guages known to each other, cause the light of truth 
to shine wh erever commerce has penetrated ? And 
have we not reason to think, that the modern Bible 
Societies, aided by the facilities which commercial 
intercourse procures, will do more for the cause of 
truth, without any violence or any oppression, in one 
century, than were effected in ten, by all the col- 
leges of the Propagandists ? 

1 am here attaching to the terms, commerce, and 
the commercial spirit, a very extensive meaning ; I 
consider them as having a bearing on every class of 
society. In fact, it is not the professed mer- 
chant and trader only, who arc in our times con- 
nected with commerce ; the commercial spirit is 
universal, and pervades all classes in a degree. The 
modern state of the world is wholly different from 
the ancient in this respect, and is becoming more so ; 
it is this difference which constitutes our superior- 
ity : it is this which affects the cultivator of the 
earth, the artizan, and all those likewise, whose 
operations are connected with mental labour : it is 



133 

this, which has stimulated the latent powers of pro- 
duction, and fertilized the wide fields of human 
exertion. It is this activity of the principle of com- 
merce, that is alternately the cause and effect of our 
liberty, enterprise, science, and morality : it is this 
therefore, which has made known the rights, 
enlarged the capacity, multiplied the comforts, and 
ameliorated the condition of mankind. 

In the time of the ancients, those nations which 
dwelt under inhospitable skies, were very little supe- 
rior in any thing they possessed, to our Choctaws and 
Seminoles ; and those who lived in more fortunate 
climates, displayed their grandeur and power princi- 
pally in war. The people at large must have been 
poorer, as ignorant, and with as little motive for 
exertion as the Turks. One ship like those engaged 
in the trade between Europe and India, would have 
transported all the merchandise, with the exceptions 
of corn, wine, and oil, that came annually for the 
supply of even imperial Rome. Property existed 
in much fewer shapes ; land, palaces, plate, pictures, 
statues, and slaves, were the chief investments of it ; 
this wealth was commonly the spoils of a vanquished 
enemy, and held by a few patrician families ; the 
people at large had no motive to labour, except for 
daily sustenance ; there were few gradations, to 
produce the constant excitement of rivalry and effort 
to better their situation ; the disparity was too great 
to give any hope of attaining that vast wealth, which 
was in the hands of a few, and of whose ostentatious 
gratuities they were content to partake, in frequent- 



134 

ing the baths orthe theatres. If Panis et cir censes 
was the popular cry in the decline of the empire, it 
was bread alone, in poorer and more virtuous times. 
Till the conclusion of the 15th century, things 
were but little better ; in modern times the baron, 
the priest and the peasant, comprised almost all the 
distinctions in society. The latter received just 
enough of the produce of his labour to keep him 
from starving, and the surplus was divided between 
the two former. A comparatively small number of 
mechanics were sufificient to make the few rude arti- 
cles of dress and furniture then in use. The monied 
transactions that occurred were in the hands of 
Jews, who were held in such contempt and oppres- 
sion, that their agency could be neither extensive or 
honourable. The few shops then seen, must have 
made such a paltry display of wares, as is now 
exhibited in the poorest suburbs of modern cities. 
A pedlar was the richest dealer in a district, and he 
supplied, in his rambling visits, not only the cottage 
of the serf, but the castle of the master. Canals 
were unknown and roads impassable ; transportation 
of commodities was almost impracticable; the 
exchange of products was therefore but little prac- 
tised ; the corn, wine, oil, and wool that were pro- 
duced in a province, were consumed within it, 
excepting some of the countries on the shores of the 
Mediterranean, on which sea were to be found 
almost all the vessels that carried on the commerce 
of Europe. 



135 

I have here recalled to your mind the circum- 
stances of former times in this general outline, only 
to show the contrast with the present, and thus 
infer the superiority of the influence of commerce 
over the other two ruling principles. With the 
added success of several centuries of conquest, what 
did the power of the sword produce, but the colos- 
sal grandeur of the eternal city, and the slavery of 
every country in Europe ? With the unlimited de- 
votion of men's minds, with a universal fanaticism ^ 
and a trembling unconditional submission to its 
decrees, what did the domination of religion, in 
the exercise of political power, produce in the 
course of ten centuries, but some gigantic churches, 
some vast convents, a few illuminated MSS. and 
universal ignorance and superstition ? What has 
been effected by the influence of commerce in a 
little more than three centuries ? let the prosperity 
of the civilized world, and the daily extension of 
its limits, be the answer. 

The pervading, powerful agency of the commer- 
cial principle, is a subject of admiration, and the 
era of its rule seems destined to carry society to its 
highest capability of improvement, and perhaps to 
furnish the preventives of national decay. It acts 
as the universal stimulus to production, and makes 
what is produced the certain means of acquiring 
wealth : the acquisition of this induces and sustains 
every other acquisition, liberty, comfort, instruc- 
tion, morality, and religion. Every individual in 
society is animated by this influence, as every thing 



136 

he can produce is marketable : men do not limit 
themselves to the mere attainment of sustenance ; 
whatever may be their pursuit, each strives to 
create a surplus by his labour beyond his own im- 
mediate wants, to secure a greater power of ulterior 
gratification. This impulse extends the limits of 
intercourse every year, multiplies the mass of ex- 
changeable products, and of course accumulates 
the general amount of property, or the results of 
human industry : it equalizes the gifts of Provi- 
dence, and levels the condition of his creatures ; by 
it, distant nations are brought into communication, 
and each is enabled to profit not only by the barter 
of commodities, but by the observation of every 
kind of improvement. A new fruit is obtained 
from one, a machine from another, a wise regulation 
from a third. Climate no longer prevents this 
man from eating sugar, or deprives that of bread. 
The vast capabilities of the earth are thrown into 
one common stock, which is open to universal com- 
petition, and from which intelligence and industry 
are sure to derive the largest portion. 

The absurdity, on reflection, must be apparent, 
though it still occurs occasionally, of talking about 
a commercial interest separate from that of the 
community, in any extensive nation ; and the at- 
tempt to inspire a jealousy of it is unwise and 
mischievous. The merchants, for instance, in the 
United States, numerous and important as their 
operations have become, are only the factors for 
the rest of the nation. Their interests cannot be 



137 

different on any great points. Their concerns and 
those of the agriculturist are intimately blended. 
We have learnt, from severe experience, that restric- 
tions on them almost immediately affect the whole 
country. It is like throwing a dam across the 
mouth of a river ; the current is first checked there, 
but the flood recedes till it stagnates in its most 
distant fountains. The planter, iarmer, mechanic, 
and very soon the professional man, are affected 
injuriously by any hindrance to free trade. The 
commercial action is to the nation what the circu- 
lation of the blood is to the body ; it carries vitality 
and nutriment to every part. 

Europe still suffers under the prevalence of max- 
ims, established in times of comparative ignorance 
and barbarity. The restrictions in the commerce 
of grain, in the exportation of specie, and in other 
articles of merchandise, are obstacles to public pros- 
perity. Some of these questions are attended with 
such serious consequences; the minority which 
gains by monopoly, always pertinacious, however 
small, throw so many alarms in the way of an im- 
proved system, that the advances towards it are 
slow. Then the rivalries and animosities between 
different states, the embarrassments caused by their 
colonial system, and the enormous exactions of the 
fisc, render amelioration hopeless ; so long as the 
warlike establishments of those countries shall con- 
sume so large a part of their substance, and intimi- 
date their statesmen from trying alterations, which 
may throw any hazard on the means of supporting 

18 



138 

lliem. How fortunate is our condition in this re- 
spect; without colonies to restrict or to favour, 
without military establishments beyond the first 
wants of defence ; with every part of our territory 
on an equal footing, all its productions freely ex- 
ported, and no foreign ones prohibited, the freedom 
of commerce is here perfect and its benefits incal- 
culable. 

The state of commerce, as it now exists in the 
world, has rendered many prejudices, originally 
just, and long hereditary, now obsolete. When the 
merchants of the world were in proportion to its 
commerce, and little more than a group of pedlars 
and usurers, it was allowable to view them with 
contempt or hatred. But when their operations 
have extended, till a single individual employs more 
persons, and receives a greater income, than some 
princes, the case is altered. We have lately seen, 
that one of them might almost be considered a 
party at the Congress of Aix la Chapelle ; without 
whose agency, at least, the sovereigns could not 
have terminated their arrangements. Mercantile 
transactions, by the extension of commerce, are 
widely diffused ; and every man who has any thing 
beyond his own wants, is obliged to partake of 
them. The agriculturist who employs any capital, 
must be extensively engaged in buying and selling ; 
and he must be conversant with many commercial 
transactions, and keep in view the general state of 
commerce, or he will be a great loser. There are, 
besides, a large number of individuals, who as 



139 

bankers, insurers, stockholders, or adventurers in dif- 
ferent voyages, employ their capital in trade, though 
in a manner that leaves them great leisure for amuse- 
ments or instruction. It is these numerous classes 
of individuals, with characters more or less elevated, 
that connect the profession of commerce with the 
leading ranks of society. Education in a free coun- 
try is the chief test of respectability ; and as the 
sons of merchants receive the same education with 
those of princes, and often profit by it more, it is the 
fault or the choice of the individual, if his station 
be not conspicuous. 

The results of enlarged commerce have been so 
numerous and important ; the changes it has made 
in society have been so beneficent, that I do not 
know whether it be too extravagant to hope, that 
posterity may owe a diminution of war to this 
source. As people acquire property, instruction, a 
feeling of their rights, and the habit of examining 
public affairs and judging questions of general 
interest, they may hereafter become too wise, to 
suffer kings to play so often at the game of war. 
That the practice of war should be foregone alto- 
gether, we cannot expect or wish. With all its 
evils, it produces some good effects. It may be the 
corruption of our nature if you please, but it seems 
natural to man. It brings out some of his virtues, 
and sustains the high and noble feeling, which makes 
personal safety a subordinate consideration. It gives 
frequent examples of manliness, magnanimity, and 
the sacrifice of selfishness on the altar of patriotism. 



140 

It abashes and humiliates that tone of cant and 
hypocrisy, which avarice and cowardice sometimes 
assume, to screen their meanness under the disguise 
of philanthropy and religion. It, besides, employs 
a number of people, who from their peculiar cha- 
racter would be only nuisances in society ; and if 
they had no other resort, would become private bul- 
lies and assassins ; though the same people under 
military discipline, guided by superior minds and 
excited by a certain standard of honour, may make 
excellent " food for powder," and contribute to the 
defence of their country. But if the increase of 
intelligence and personal independence, which are 
produced by the extension of commerce ; if this 
should stimulate the citizens of every country in 
Europe, to insist on a reduction of the oppressive 
and useless military establishments, which devour 
so much of their industry ; if they would endure 
only a small army for the personal gratification of 
the sovereign, and the necessary defence of the 
country, against the surprise of sudden invasion, and 
thus diminish the scale of military achievements, to a 
kind of pompous gladiatorial combats, we might then 
hope for that splendid era which would deprive war 
of its stmg, and confirm the prosperity and improve- 
ments of mankind. This era, you may think, would 
be too near an approach to the millennium, to be 
expected in our age. When all civilized nations in 
a feeling of universal comity^ and enlarged views 
of individual as well as general interests, should 
agree in removing the restrictions from commerce, 



141 

that mutually oppress them, and should insist that 
the operations of war should not interfere, except 
in the case of a besieged fortress, with the subsis- 
tence of mankind, or the rewards of their industry ; 
that inoffensive productions should circulate freely, 
and be exempt from capture ; then would war be a 
comparatively harmless struggle, in which the min- 
ions of glory would be the only sufferers ; when its 
destruction would be confined to a single plain, or a 
solitary fortress; and not, as we now behold it, 
plundering the palace and the cottage, devastating 
provinces, covering kingdoms with ruin ; by its 
insatiable demands, consuming the blood and sub- 
stance of nations, involving the victor and the van- 
quished in one common oppression, ruining the latter 
by its defeats, and enfeebling the former by its 
triumphs. 



LETTER V. 



LITERATURE. 



My dear Sir, 

The past and present state of American litera- 
ture, and the hopes which may be entertained in 
respect to it, you know have of late years been fre- 
quently discussed by those who felt an interest in the 



142 

subject. The circumstances which have influenced 
it hitherto, and those which can be expected to pro- 
mote it hereafter, have been dwelt upon by many 
patriotic minds, who were anxious about the real 
and lasting glory of their country. So many just 
and acute disquisitions have been made, that there 
is little chance of saying any thing new ; but to 
fulfil my intentions and promises, when we last con- 
versed on the subject, I must attempt to give you 
some account of the literary condition and prospects 
of this section of the Union, without attempting to 
go out of these limits. 

The first colonists of Massachusetts and Connect- 
icut, from which the other eastern states derive their 
origin and general character, were some of them 
men of learning, who were led to expatriate them- 
selves, with the purpose of promoting education 
and enjoying their religious opinions undisturbed ; 
the latter, indeed, was by far the strongest and most 
vehement motive, yet they considered the former its 
most essential support. They founded a college, 
therefore, to prepare aliment for the mind, before 
their cultivation of the soil was sufficiently extended, 
to guarantee them against a famine for the body. 
A generation had hardly elapsed, from the first 
landing of the forefathers, before they were/ollowed 
by many learned and pious men, who fled from per- 
secution so much more eagerly, when they came to 
a colony, where not only their religious opinions 
could be enjoyed, but where their learning obtained 
for them the highest reverence and distinction. The 



143 

scattered settlements along the shores of Massachu* 
setts and Connecticut, which on the map of our 
now extensive empire can hardly be made visible, 
were not inhabited, as is often the case in a new 
colony, by men of forlorn prospects and ruined cha- 
racters, or by desperate, expelled outcasts ; but by 
gentlemen and yeomen of England, who, in a period 
of stern religious dissent, went into a voluntary, dis- 
tant exile, to preserve what they considered the truth. 
These solitary villages, hardly indenting the vast 
forest that overshadowed the continent, where labour 
and frugality never relaxed their cares ; where every 
thing luxurious withered before the energy of body 
and mind, maintained by the daily encounter of hard- 
ship and danger ; in these lone villages, there were to 
be found as teachers and leaders of the flock, men 
who united all the learning of the schools, to the 
piety and zeal of the confessors and martyrs. These 
men, who had been bred in the antique cloisters of 
Oxford and Cambridge, with habits and views thai 
ordinarily lead to timid apprehensions of every thing 
new, and a reluctant change of locality ; cheerfully 
came to what was then called the new, and might 
almost be considered another, world, — and here 
exhorted their fellow pilgrims to constancy. Some- 
times their discourse was held in the deep shades of 
moss-grown forests, whose gloom and interlaced 
boughs first suggested that Gothic architecture, be 
neath whose pointed arches, where they had studied 
and prayed, the parti-coloured windows shed a 
tinged light ; scenes which the gleams of sunshine. 



144. 

penetrating the deep foliage, and flickering on the 
variegated turf below, might have recalled to their 
memory. 

A text selected by a distinguished clergyman, the 
Rev. Mr. Danforth, for a sermon preached on 
a public occasion, in the early period of the 
Colony, was strikingly adapted to his purpose, and 
might nearly be taken as a standing motto for the 
history of our forefathers — " What went ye out into 
the wilderness to see ? a reed shaken by the wind f 

But what went ye out for to see ? A man clothed 
in soft raiment ? Behold they that wear soft clothing 
are in King's houses. 

But what loent ye out for to see ? A prophet ? yea, 
I say unto you, and more than a prophet. 

They were constantly reading the scriptures and 
citing particular passages, which they thought appli- 
cable to their situation. From this source they ac- 
quired much of the fortitude which made them en- 
dure, and finally triumph over the hardships of their 
lot. 

Though religion was the chief, nay, almost the 
exclusive motive for the cultivation of learning by 
our ancestors, they were not wholly neglectful of the 
natural sciences, which have since that period been 
so prodigiously developed. It is a singular fact, 
that the first founders of the Royal Society of Eng- 
land meditated the romantic idea of coming to 
this country, to devote themselves wholly to the 
pursuit of science. This singular conception was 
abandoned, but one or two of them came here, and 
were in constant correspondence with the Society 



145 

at home. But to rear teachers of the gospel, was 
the main purpose for which the first colleges were 
founded. The ancient languages, Latin, Greek, 
and Hebrew, divinity, logic, and philosophy, such 
as they were in that period, were the only objects 
of study. * 

Having so early founded a college for teaching 
some of the higher branches of learning, it may be 
supposed that they did not overlook the utility of 
widely diffusing the advantages of the common 
kinds of instruction. This was attended to from 
the beginning ; laws were enacted from time to 
time, until it became the imperative duty of every 
town to maintain a public school ; and at pre- 
sent these must be so supported, as to give every 
child the means of instruction. In Connecticut the 
expense is defrayed by a fund belonging to the state, 
amounting to 1,500,000 dollars, the income of which 
is paid over to each town in certain relative propor- 
tions. In the other eastern states, it is done by each 
town taxing itself to keep open a school for a part 
of the year, generally during the winter months. 
In these schools, reading, writing, and arithmetic are 
taught, and every family has a right to send its chil- 
dren. The consequence is, that the rudiments of 
education are more universally disseminated, than 
over any district of equal extent in the world ; and 
but few instances can be found in this population, 
verging towards two millions, of native individuals 
who cannot read and write. Next to these com- 
mon schools, come the grammar schools, which are. 

19 



146 

maintained in the more populous towns, and the 
scale of tuition in these is higher. Then come the 
incorporated schools, called academies, of which 
there are thirty or forty in Massachusetts, and a 
considerable number in the other states ; these are 
supported partly by funds, and by a moderate sum 
paid for tuition. Writing, arithmetic, geography, 
elocution, and the languages, are taught in most of 
them sufficiently for the examination on entering 
college. Each state has one or more colleges — 
Connecticut one, Rhode Island two. New Hamp- 
shire one, Vermont two, Maine one, and Massachu 
setts three, including the Andover Theological Col- 
lege. The foundation at Cambridge, which dates 
from 1639, is the only one that is, perhaps, strictly 
entitled to the appellation of University. The col- 
lege at New-Haven, founded in 1704, is the next 
in point of reputation, as well as age. New Hamp- 
shire and Rhode Island come next. The college 
at Brunswick, in Maine, is in a growing state, and 
though of recent date, enjoys, considerable reputa- 
tion.* 

Through these different schools, the whole rising 
generation is at least taught to read and write. The 
higher class of seminaries produce annually a largo 
number who have acquired something of the lan- 
guages, geography, &c. besides those who are bred 
in many respectable private schools, where the tui- 
tion is commonly more effective, as the pupils are 

* Bow'loin College at Bruuswick is iocreasiiig rapidly. Tbe students have 
doubled in number within four years, and owing to the zeal of its governmeDt, 
the ability of the instructors, and the spirit of improvement prevailing there, it 
may be ranked as the third college in the Union. 



147 

fewer in number and the expense greater. Last 
come the colleges and the university, which perhaps 
confer degrees, one year with another, on about 
three hundred young men, without including those 
belonging to other states. These have, in their four 
years residence, pursued the languages, the belles 
lettres, history, natural and moral philosophy, the 
mathematics, and heard lectures on theology, law, 
chemistry, botany, and the medical branches of 
science, which last, however, are optional Some 
of the colleges are deficient in a part of these 
branches, and some of them are filled by a more 
able professor in one institution than at another. 
The use of lectures as a means of teaching is in- 
creasing in our establishments ; in certain depart- 
ments we may boast as valuable courses of lectures, 
and as able professors, as can be found in any coun- 
try. 

The ability to read must then be universal ; the 
manner in which it is exercised, of course varies with 
the situation, instruction and tastes of the individu- 
al. The Bible is the most read of all other books ; 
it would certainly be difficult to find a house with- 
out one. Next to this, in the houses of the poorer 
classes will be found popular religious tracts, of 
which great numbers, as well as of the Bible, are 
now annually distributed, gratis. Next to these in 
frequency are volumes of popular poetry, travels, 
or contemporaneous works, exciting patriotic feel- 
ings, or the political sympathies of the times. Then 
come the favourite novelists and poets of the day, 



148 

Bjron, Scott, Miss Edgeworth, kc. wliose works, 
Vepiiblished in a cheap, small form, are spread every 
where. Lastly, come a few with a literary or sci- 
entific taste, who possess the standard works in mo- 
dern literature, the ancient classics, and splendid 
works in the sciences. Such libraries are not very 
numerous, — still less can they be called extensive, 
when compared with the private collections in some 
countries of Europe ; but there are some respecta- 
ble both for size and selection, and the taste for 
owning really valuable works is increasing. I do 
not know of any private library among us contain- 
ing more than seven thousand volumes, but there 
are many that exceed one or two thousand. 

We have been, and still are, much more in the 
habit of reading books, than making them ; yet the 
number we have produced is greater, than most per- 
sons would suppose, or than might have been ex- 
pected under our circumstances. The earliest ef- 
forts were some small descriptive works, printed in 
England, written soon after the first settlement of 
the country, and which are by no means deficient 
in interest, to those who are fond of investigating 
our early history. Next come sermons, religious 
controversy, and metaphysical religion, spread into 
bewildering subtleties, or abstruse, incomprehensible 
doctrines, — sad trash, of which hardly a single vo- 
lume has now any value. This class of books has al- 
ways, and does still, form the largest in our produc- 
tions ; but its relative magnitude is daily lessening, 
and its merit increasing. Polemical religion is not 



149 

much to the taste of the day ; and a religious disputant 
can gain but few readers, and still fewer admirers. 
If a man is affected with this mania, the best cure 
for him, without taking; the thousands of folios that 
crowd some of the theological libraries of Europe, 
would be to show him the collection of what has 
been done here ; how little the cause of truth has 
been served by this kind of strife, and how worth- 
less are all these dingy volumes. Some of our public 
libraries, in order to make their collection complete, 
have copies of them all, which are no where else 
to be found ; for wost of these works, like the Vicar 
of Wakefield's Treatise on Monogamy, became 
scarce even in the life-time of their authors. But 
the same improvement has taken place in this, as 
in other branches of our literature. We have had 
some sermons published within a few years, that 
will be always read with pleasure. 

The next class in point of number, and the first 
in value, have been Journals, histories, and biogra- 
phy ; — with the aid of these, we have a very com- 
plete chronology from the earliest settlement of the 
country, and a tolerable account of the principal in- 
dividuals who are connected with our history. 
The constant Indian wars, and the hostilities with 
the French, form the themes of many narratives. 
Biography of the governors, of men who distin- 
guished themselves in the border wars, of clergy- 
men who were remarkable for their learning or 
influence, are the chief subjects. Most of these 
works we owe to clergymen, who were for some 



150 

generations the only professional men possessed ot 
respectability and talents. It is only during the 
two last generations that physicians and lawyers 
have been men of learning and celebrity. Next 
come poetry and miscellaneous works in the 
belles-lettres; religion or politics have been the 
prevailing motives of the former. Connecticut has 
been the principal nursery of this species of talent. 
Many of these productions are respectable, and cer- 
tainly as worthy of preservation as the works of 
several of the minor poets, who are enrolled in 
English collections of poetry. But none of it is 
of the first class, and therefore a very lasting repu- 
tation cannot be founded upon it ; for mediocrity in 
poetry is like staleness in champagne ; and we have 
it on very ancient and very decisive authority, that 
neither gods nor men will tolerate indifferent poetry. 
Still, I believe the productions of some of these 
writers, will form part of future collections of 
American poetry, — partly as early specimens, part- 
ly, because there was a good deal of patriotic and 
ardent feeling in the writers, that made them very- 
popular at the time, — and because, if not very 
brilliant, the versification was flowing and correct. 

1 have not noticed political writings, but these 
have been very abundant. The Revolution, the 
adoption of the Federal Constitution, and the 
parties that grew up under it, have furnished innu- 
merable pamphlets, and some solid volumes. By 
far the greater number of these were ephemeral, 
and can now only be met with on the shelves of 



151 

collectors : they were too often written with all 
the bitterness and prejudice of party spirit, and 
were forgotten with the temporary purpose they 
were meant to answer. But there are some 
honourable exceptions, and this period has furnish- 
ed some treatises, that will enter into the studies of 
all future statesmen. The Defence of the Ameri- 
can Constitutions, and the Federalist, will certain- 
ly be of this description. 

A great many magazines have been undertaken 
within the last half century, which existed only for 
a few years. At present they are numerous, par- 
ticularly religious ones : the Calvinists, Unitarians, 
Baptists, Methodists, Universalists, Swedenbor- 
gians. Episcopalians, have each one for the particu- 
lar edification of their own secc. A quarterly jour- 
nal devoted to the sciences, published at New- 
Haven, is highly deserving of an extended patron- 
age, both for its objects and the talents of its editor. 
The New-England Medical Journal, appearing 
quarterly, at Boston, has able contributors : an 
Agricultural Journal is issued by the Massachusetts 
Agricultural Society, the Athenaeum, printed once a 
fortnight, is composed exclusively of selections from 
the English Magazines, and as it takes the cream 
from them all must be a rich miscellany. The 
North American Review published quarterly is 
devoted to general literature and science. This 
work is now conducted with very great ability. It is 
republished in England, and since it has come 
under the direction of the present editor promises 



162 

to be the most widely circulated of all our periodi- 
cal works, of which it is certainly the most dis- 
tinguished. 

I have omitted, in the account of our reading, to 
mention newspapers : — these are go numerous, so 
cheap and so miscellaneous, that they are dispersed 
every where. Upwards of a dozen are published 
in Boston, two in Salem, Portsmouth, Portland, 
Hallowell, Providence, Hartford, New-Haven, &c. 
— and almost every county has one. They carry 
their various topics into every dwelling ; each poli- 
tical party has its onn, and whatever taste becomes 
considerably spread, soon has a printer to purvey 
for it. Thus, there is one of these papers that 
espouses the cause of masonry, another that gives 
an account of religious missions, revivals, &c. 
Every body reads newspapers ; — the market man, 
riding home in his cart, will be often seen poring 
over their pages ; — they are found, not only in 
every inn, as in England, but in almost every far- 
mer's house. All read ; all get a smattering of the 
events as they pass, — and many acquire an idle, 
desultory habit, from going over the strange medley 
of these endless gazettes, that incapacitates them 
from pursuing a steady and solid course of reading. 

The discouragements to which our literature is 
exposed, have been well pointed out ; — 1 will touch 
for a moment on a few of them. The greatest, and 
the most obvious was the constant, supply of very 
superior articles, to use the language of trade, from 
England^ In this, as in coarser branches of manu- 



153 

facture, it was almost in vain to enter into compe- 
tition. Her scholars were already made, and sup- 
plied with every advantage for their labours. Her 
literary capital was great ; her taste and learning 
long matured, and in every thing of a finer texture, 
she could furnish us better and cheaper than we 
did ourselves. Still, every people must have some- 
thing peculiar in their situation, and learn to pre- 
pare for themselves what this peculiarity renders 
necessary, and also such things, the want of which 
is constantly occurring. We soon ceased to import 
horse s^oes and almanacs. As one of the earliest 
manufactures we possessed was that of thread-lace, 
so one of the first i)roductions of our literature was 
poetry. This particularly flourished about the 
time we became a nation. As we could not expect 
our enemies to prepare patriotic verses for us, we 
were obliged to make them for ourselves. In this 
fervid era, enthusiasm naturally led to the production 
of poetry, and more considerable works were under- 
taken under that excitement, than we have pro- 
duced since. In the mean time, skill and capital, 
to continue this borrowed phraseology, have both 
been accumulating, and there are some branches 
where the wants of the country are now in a great 
degree, and soon will be entirely, supplied at home. 
Such, for instance, as law, medicine, theology, 
politics, domestic biography, and history. Several 
of the sciences are beginning to show specimens of 
our acquirements, which are both elegant and pro- 

20 



154 

found, and the prospect of a rapid growth of our 
literary reputation is extremely animating. 

Besides the discouragement to labour in the field 
of literature here, produced by the great superiority 
of those who cultivated it in England, and whose 
works, from being in the same language, were 
equally accessible to us as to them ; another disad- 
vantage arose from the want of wealth and leisure, 
or in other words, from the necessity and benefit of 
devoting all our faculties to more material pursuits. 
The forests were to be prostrated, the land tilled, 
the sea navigated. There was little superfluous 
wealth amassed ; almost every man's existence 
depended upon his labour, and those who were ex- 
empt from this necessity, were obliged to devote 
themselves to the various cares of regulating and 
administering the concerns of society ; for which 
employment honour was the chief recompense, as 
their fellow citizens could not, or would not pay 
those who served them. Thus, in labouring for 
his family or the public, every man's exertions 
were needed, and till a recent period, every thing 
that was written among us, was produced by 
magistrates and clergymen, in those gleanings of 
time which they could make from their professional 
vocations. Very profound researches, or very 
finished disquisitions, could not be looked for under 
these circumstances. The works that were writ- 
ten were for local and temporary purposes, or they 
were narratives of events, furnishing invaluable 
documents to future historians. 



155 

The scattered position of our population, and the 
want of large towns, was an obstruction. The 
urbanity, the atticism, or by whatever name that 
tone of good taste may be called, which can never 
harmonize with rusticity or vulgarity, cannot exist 
unless formed by the concentration of large cities. 
Without a metropolis, where individual prejudice 
and conceit will be confounded and put down by 
the collision of equal or superior minds, there will 
be always a provincial air discoverable in all works 
of literature, that will disqualify them for general cir- 
culation. They exhibit a sort of dialect of ideas, 
as well as of words, of which the former is much 
more intolerable than the latter. In England and 
France there are works published every year in the 
provinces that exemplify this defect, and which 
never get beyond their own vicinity. This state of 
things, from which w^e are beginning to emerge, pro- 
duced its natural effect. We had no large towns, 
where, out of the congregation of opinions, every 
defect and every beauty was sure to be remarked, 
and an author thus enabled to form a correct model. 
Our seminaries were rather for the instruction of 
boys than men ; there were no more persons em- 
ployed in them than was necessary for the former 
purpose ; and as there were no matured minds 
engaged in the higher branches of study, even the 
limited competency of collegiate society was want- 
ing in the formation of a pure taste. In every 
department of the belles-letters, particularly those 
which partake of satire and sportive wit, this would 



156 

be most strongly shown. The productions of Con- 
necticut furnish a striking example of this, not only 
because they were most numerous, but because the 
inilL-?^nce alhuled to was wholly wanting. They 
exhibited strong, acute, and witty minds, wliich if 
they had breathed any other atmosphere than that 
of a village, might have formed accomplished wri- 
ters. The people of these states have a strong love 
and perception of humour, but it is clothed in a rus- 
tic dress. The equality of condition carries this 
style of humour among men of all professions, and 
the writers in question imbibed its rusticity ; often 
yielding to it against even their better judgment, that 
their writings might be more easily relished by those 
immediately about them. The consequence has 
been, that even genuine wit was degraded by its 
associations, till it became maukish to a correct 
taste. Their sweetness resembles more the flavour 
of that popular commodity, of which we annually 
drain the West Indies, than the honey of Mount 
Hymettus. The productions of minds fraught with 
classic images, were adapted to village comprehen- 
sion ; their Apollo was the god in exile and dis- 
guise, tending the flocks of Admetus in Thessaly, 
playing with the reed of Pan to shepherds and cot- 
tagers, not striking the lyre to the listening Muses 
and Graces on Parnassus. 

There is one branch of literature, in which we 
have produced nothing that will go down to the next 
generation, though several attempts have been made. 
I speak of the drama ; our failure of success here 



157 

is owing to various causes. All the prominent and 
most natural subjects of tragedy and comedy have 
long since been brought into action on the French 
and English stage. Nothing was left to modern 
writers, but to invent some new and complicated 
plot, or to seize upon the passing ridicule of the day 
for the amusement of an audience : even these 
resources are not inexhaustible, and the English 
theatre, so far as the authors are concerned, has 
been gradually deteriorating, till at last legitimate 
tragedy and comedy have been almost lost, and pan- 
tomime, with all its powerful accompaniments of 
music, dancing and scenery, has nearly got posses- 
sion of the stage. In this exhaustion of subjects, 
we of course were equally at a loss, but we had in 
addition other disadvantages to struggle with. 'Tis 
less than a generation since we have had a theatre at 
all, and even now, the Boston theatre is the only 
regular one in the eastern states. Stage plays were 
held in abomination by our puritan ancestors ; and 
a repeal of the law against them in the state of 
Massachusetts, was obtained after a hard struggle, 
and only as regarded the capital. The first theatre 
opened here was before the repeal, and the plays 
were called, " Moral Lectures ;" thus an advertise- 
ment ran ; " This evening will be performed a 
moral lecture, called The School for Scandal,^^ &:c. 
The magistrates, with a due discretion and regard 
to public opinion, winked at this evasion, till just at 
the close of the season, when they interfered. The 
repeal took place at the next session of the legisla- 
ture. 



158 

You may recollect the story of the German burgo- 
master, who told his sovereigu on his entering the 
city, that they did not fire a salute for six reasons ; the 
first was, that they had no cannon ; when the prince, 
good-naturedly, spared him a recital of the remainder. 
Now you may think it a sufficient excuse, that we 
have not produced plays, when we were without a 
theatre ; but still the topic suggests some further 
observations. We are nearly in the position of 
Ireland and Scotland towards England, as regards 
"he stage. Ireland and Scotland have no drama of 
fheir own, though they have marked peculiarities of 
character, a distinct dialect, and many traditions 
and romantic adventures appropriate to themselves. 
Yet they have never recurred to these ; they submit 
to the dictature of the metropolitan stage, from 
which they derive all their scenic representations, 
and on which they seldom appear except in an odi- 
ous or ridiculous character. Macbeth and Douglas 
are indeed from Scottish history, but they were 
written for the English stage. In the case of Scot- 
land, this seems remarkable, as their romantic his- 
tory is not only a favourite theme with them, but 
with others ; and their peculiar dialect, which they 
are so fond of retaining, and with which all their 
novels and poetry is infected, would have its value 
in the drama also. They have, in addition, a na- 
tional music, which is by all nations admitted to be 
beautiful ; they have a large and splendid metropo- 
lis, where a good deal of national pride exists ; and 
it \^'ould seem as if no country in Europe could 



159 

have more interesting national operas than the 
Scotch, and yet I do not know that any attempt in 
this way was ever made by them. Perhaps, the 
narrow and bigoted spirit of the Presbyterians, like 
that of our puritans, proscribed the theatre. Now, 
we are without some of the advantages for the dra- 
ma possessed by the Scotch, particularly in their 
music, and we are, like them, without any actors of 
our own, and depend upon foreign performers. 
This is better, as far as regards English plays, but 
it is in vain to expect to introduce our own customs 
and manners on the stage, until we have a race of 
native actors who can personate them. In some at- 
tempts that have been made, an English actor attempt- 
ing to personate a Yankee clown, would introduce 
his Yorkshire or Somersetshire cant, but this no more 
represented it, than it did an Irishman or a Scotch- 
man. Every country has its particular style of hu- 
mour and manners, and so has ours, and none but a 
native can exhibit the marked peculiarity of these, 
without which all comic zest is destroyed. 

In the progress of time we shall doubtless have a 
national theatre, and then local peculiarities will fur- 
nish resources for comedy. There are some peri- 
ods of our history, which will furnish hereafter 
highly dramatic subjects. This mine must be 
worked by posterity ; what will be deeply interest- 
ing to them, runs into the absurd with cotempo- 
raries. A few years since, a tragedy was brought 
forward and played several nights, founded on one 
of the memorable events of the Revolution ; one of 



160 

the principal characters was that of a distinguished 
officer, who derived much amusement by going to 
the theatre to see himself represented. The pre- 
mature blending of fact and fancy together in a 
drama, will make even the most serious subjects 
ludicrous. In the calculation of chances, it may 
be presumed that some of the future attempts will 
succeed, though to write a good play under the in- 
spiration of either Muse, is one of the most difficult 
productions of literature. I presume more than a 
dozen tragedies, comedies, and farces, have been 
brought forward on the Boston stage since it was 
established, which have seldom struggled more than 
a night or two ; a much greater number have been 
written than have ever been attempted on the stage, 
though they may have been printed, commonly to 
the subsequent regret of the author. I knew one 
of these a few years since that produced a useful 
effect, though it was not on the stage. A member 
of a legislative body, like Beaumarchais's physician, 
had " witten a tragedy in his youth," which was 
unluckily printed, and was most truly ridiculous. 
During a period of high party spirit, a printer had 
obtained a copy, and was preparing to overwhelm' 
the senator with ridicule. A gentleman who was 
anxious for the enactment of a particular bill, ob- 
tained this copy, and gave it to the author, with no 
other intimation than that of the mischief he had 
prevented. In what degree of bribery this would 
be ranked, I know not ; it however at least neutral- 
ized a vote. 



161 

One of the most serious discouragements to Ame- 
rican authors ; one that meets them in the very 
thresholf], arises from the peculiar circumstances of 
the book trade ; some of these — for instance, the 
difficulty of transmitting books in small parcels to 
great distances, which is a serious obstacle, will be 
gradually obviated, as the means of transportation 
and communication are daily improving. But the 
main evil will be of longer continuance ; the publish- 
ing booksellers of the United States are the natural 
enemies of our own authors ; they, whose interven- 
tion is a matter of necessity, either refuse it alto- 
gether, or offer it with reluctance, and as a favour. 
I do not know that they can be blamed for consulting 
their own interest, except it be by the non-descripts, 
who do not follow the same rule. It is neverthe- 
less a check to the enterprize of literary men, who 
can now hardly get a book printed unless they will 
sell it themselves ; and they cannot be authors, ex- 
cept gratuitously, unless they will be booksellers 
also : those who are best qualified for the latter oc- 
cupation, are not always the most competent to 
the former. The two, however, are frequently unit- 
ed. The publishers in the United States obtain 
the productions of the English press for nothing : 
every book printed in that country is a waif to 
them ; which they greedily take into possession. 
The author is in this case paid nothing ; the bookseller 
and printer profit by his wits. An American author 
must be paid for the oil he has consumed, but the 
bookseller would not give him the value of the 

21 



162 

tiiiniuiiigs of his Jainp : Why should he ? He 
can derive more by the republication of foreign 
literature. The public also connive at this proscrij)- 
tion of domestic talent, partly from habit, partly 
from interest ; since if the author receives any thing 
for his labours, American books must be dearer than 
foreign ones, on which the publisher modestly takes 
for his share, as an importer, only part of what 
would be paid to the author. 

We have indeed no poet like Byron, or novelist 
like Scott and Edgeworth ; would to heaven Ave 
had ! but we might furnish works superior to many 
that are reprinted here, and circulated with all the 
industry of trade. Much of what is republished is 
miserable. But I may cite to you a case which will 
exemplify the whole of this evil. Some years 
since a bookseller got the earliest copy of one of 
those villanous libels, that have been written 
against this country, in the form of travels ; it was 
a sorry production ; yet it was foreign, and therefore 
printed and circulated. It so happened, that a cler- 
gyman of this state, who had recently travelled 
over the same ground, published a well written tour, 
which, however, contained nothing libellous ; — it 
would not sell. I recollect seeing in a periodical 
publication, a short notice from him of these cir- 
cumstances, expressed in terms rather of regret than 
anger, and which terminated with this apposite de- 
scription of American patronage ; Alienos fovens, 
suis neglectis. This evil will be slowly corrected 
by public feeling, and we may look forward to the 



163 

lime when foreign works of merit only will be re- 
printed, and when a domestic production of equal 
goodness will have the preference over a foreign 
one ; but this period has not yet arrived. 

Literature is discouraged by the present state of 
patronage, which is not commensurate with our 
means. Patronage formerly meant an arrogant 
gratuity, bestowed by rank and wealth on the la- 
bours of genius, to gratify ostentation or secure 
fame, by having their names held up in a dedica- 
tion. But the condition of authors is ameliorated ; a 
dedication is now a mark of friendship, not of sub- 
serviency ; the individual largess is changed into 
public contribution. The number of readers, from 
the wide diffusion of education, now contributes the 
most effective patronage, it is this kind of support 
which is wanting, not from deficiency of means, 
but from want of consideration. There is many a 
person among us whose cellar is worth a thousand 
dollars, but whose library would not bring a hun- 
dred. Do not think for a moment that I would 
disparage the value of wine, particularly that true 
Falernian, that is sent to double the Cape of Good 
Hope. I have read too much of Anacreon and 
Horace to be guilty of that heresy ; on the con- 
trary, I hold its limited consumption to be one of 
the ablest supporters of sound learning. But I 
mean, that we have the ability to encourage learn- 
ing, by buying books to the full extent which is 
necessary, to cherish our growing literature. A 
very few dollars a year would purchase a copy of 
every American work, and the money so employed 



J 64 

IS not thrown away ; even if tlie purchaser does not 
read them, they will commonly sell for what they 
cost. It is a want of reflection on its advantages, 
that prevents many persons, who have a patriotic 
feeling for every thing that concerns the honour of 
their country, from this sligljt contribution ; which 
paid by many, amounts to an ample aggregate. 
Persons who can easily afford the purchase, should 
feel something like shame at borrowing a book 
which they may obtain of any bookseller, and thus 
reward the talents of their countrymen. If the im- 
portance of this were fully understood, there are 
many more individuals than now practise it, who 
would give directions to their bookseller to send 
them a copy of every American work of merit, as 
soon as it appeared. Many scientific and learned 
men would then be encouraged to pursue labours, 
which are now too often unrewarded. This topic 
recalls a remark of a distinguished individual, 
which will fully illustrate it. Being engaged one day 
in conversation wath three or four gentlemen, they 
urged him to remain, when he proposed leaving 
them ; his answer was, that he could not. *' I must 
go down to Wells and Lilly's. They have adver- 
tised some new and valuable books this morning, 
and I must buy them for some of my rich parishon- 
ers, who will want to borrow them." 

The deference for foreign opinion and the admi- 
ration of foreign literature, was disadvantageous 
when it was carried to excess, since it occasioned, 
with many, and those commonly the most cultivat- 



165 

<id minds, a distrust of their own powers, which 
rendered them inactive. There was a numerous 
class of mere smatterers, who were ready to impute 
their want of success entirely to the dazzling bril- 
liancy of foreign works ; people, who believed if 
the nightingale were out of the way, their own 
croaking would be music, and who therefore invok- 
ed patriotism to support, what good taste condemned. 
Those who had the cause of sound literature really 
at heart, who feared the progress of a false, inflated 
style, and, above all, the deterioration of the lan- 
guage, by the introduction of corrupt idioms and un- 
authorized words, treated all this class with great 
derision. Hence a habit of sarcasm and sneering 
at our own productions became general, and tended 
to create a distrust of them all. Politics also, 
which blend themselves so frequently with modern 
literature, exercised a powerful influence. The 
learning of the country was almost entirely on the 
side of that party, which be^an the administration 
of the national affairs, and which soon after became 
the minority. The disappointment created by this 
political reverse, was too deeply felt. Temporary 
mischiefs were considered radical evils. The loss 
of an election was held to be not the consequence 
of measures, but of the vices of our system. Men 
with upright views especially, were apt to attribute 
the vexations and injustice they met with in public 
life, to false principles of government. Foreigners, 
who looked at our institutions with incredulity or 
jealousy, denounced them as impracticable or ab- 



166 

surd, because they were unsuited to any thing they 
were acquainted with. The vile, atrocious parody 
of our maxims and establishments, by the French 
Revolution, confirmed them in their opinions; and 
produced some influence upon us ; for if the enor- 
mities in France were the natural result of our sys- 
tem, then it was indeed monstrous : and we were 
so frequently told that the reflection we saw in the 
Revolutionary mirror was our own image, that 
much uneasiness was excited, though we could not 
recognise it. The picture, however, was as much 
like the original, as in one of those optical tricks, 
where the figure of the most beautiful object in 
creation is converted by reflection into a hideous 
monster. 

The political distrust and anxiety that were en- 
gendered, had their influence upon literary opinions. 
Our institutions were so new ; they were so benefi- 
cent, compared with those of any other nation, 
that apprehensions Avere perfectly natural. There 
was a period even when a man who defended 
their wisdom and stability, was considered rather 
visionary, and exi)()sed to a certain vague suspicion 
of jacobinism. This has gone by ; experience has 
accumulated proofs of their solidity ; statesmen 
have become convinced that the walls are not a 
wooden frame, but massive masonry, and more and 
more pride is felt for the edifice. This feeling, in 
concerns of state, has a reaction upon literature, 
and we begin to feel more confidence and more 
ardour in its pursuit. These effects will be evi- 



167 

dent to every person who has watched the progress 
of criticism, and the tone of the higher class of lite- 
rary journals. A subservience to foreign opinions 
is destroyed ; they will be examined and valued 
only for their intrinsic merits, and we may flatter 
ourselves, that a progressive self-respect will be 
justified by our productions. 

There are several reasons that hold out to our 
country the fair prospect of literary fame, and a 
very extensive cultivation of learning. The incite- 
ments are very powerful : from the wide spread of 
our language, the numbers that speak it, on both 
continents, are already great, but from the vast 
capacity for increase here, how many additional 
millions, in only a few years, will communicate 
their ideas through this medium ! This considera- 
tion will be a powerful stimulus to talent and 
benevolence ; for the good that may be done, or 
the applause that may be acquired by authors, very 
much depend on the language that is used. A 
writer who should publish brilliant or useful 
thoughts in the Danish or Swedish language, or 
several others, would write for a very small portion 
of mankind ; hence many authors in Europe have 
given up the language of their own country, to 
write in French, which is more generally known ; 
but there is a great disadvantage in this, for the 
number of persons who can acquire a foreign lan- 
guage in sufficient perfection to express their 
thoughts in it with ease and elegance, must neces- 
sarily be very limited. The French having been 



168 

used in diplomatic intercourse by common consent, 
became the language of polite people in every 
country of Europe, and at one period this gave it a 
promise of universality. Some disposition has been 
shown on the continent to narrow its use, in order 
to counteract a political influence ; this may be on- 
ly temporary ; yet the English must become the 
predominant language. It is probably now spoken 
more than the French. In Asia it must be the exclu- 
sive European language : in Europe, the interests 
of literature and commerce both exert an increas- 
ing influence towards its acquisition as an accom- 
plishment ; and in this country, its indefinite power 
of increase will make it hereafter the most general 
language. The author who uses it, knows that 
those who can sympathize with him, or follow his 
views, are innumerable ; the theatre on which he 
performs is the largest, and the audience the most 
numerous in the world. 

The love of distinction, the ambition of fame, 
those natural and generous consequences of liberty, 
must have numerous votaries here. That love of 
future renown, which is surely not absurd unless 
the hope of immortality be groundless ; that prefer- 
ence of posthumous fame to notoriety, which ab- 
stracts itself from the present, and is anxious to be 
enrolled in the temple of memory ; " that last in- 
firmity of noble minds," if it prove a disorder to 
the individual, is a benefit to the public* 

* Wliat booteth it to have been rich alive ? 
What to be great P what to be gracioii"? 



169 

Now, as our families cannot be perpetuated ; as 
we have no entailed privileges, no hereditary rank ; 
as no one is born to titular distinctions ; as every 
man must achieve all that he possesses ; literary ce- 
lebrity will become an object of pursuit with many, 
who cannot obtain it by any less arduous mode. 
The equality that subsists among us can only be 
surmounted by superior attainments ; and those who 
do not take the roads of wealth or politics in pur- 
suit of these, will follow that of literature. 

Perhaps it may be found, that literature will de- 
rive facilities from the unfettered state of opinion 
among us. In some countries education is in the 
hands of particular classes of men, who give it a 
bias subservient to the views of government, or their 
own order. They are too apt to have a morbid 
fear of novelty, and a tendtu' toleration, of existing 
abuses. Their system is founded on prescription, 
with a strong reluctance to admit any change, even 
if that change be improvement. They themselves 
went through a certain routine, and they seem loath 
that others should escape from its irksomeness, lest 
their acquisitions should be undervalued. There is 
a strong disposition to subject every mind to one 
method ; their plan is the bed of Procrustes, and 
the mind must be stretched or contracted to fit it. 

If after death no token dotii survive 
Of former being in tiiis mortal house. 
But sleeps in dust, dead and inglorious ? 
Like beast whose breath but in his nostrils is, 
And hatfi not hope of happiness or bliss. 

Spencf:-,\- Ruintof Time- 



170 

In the freer countries, there are some exceptions, 
but they are all modern or all private institutions ; 
the public establishments still wear the livery of the 
15th century. Many minds are thus exercised in 
trammels, until the natural freedom and spring arc 
lost, and they ever after move in the required gait, 
that never oversteps the ancient paths. In this 
country, when we shall have a body of instructors 
with equal ability, and less subject to the influence 
of prejudice, less bigoted to antique forms, because 
they are antique, we may hope for greater facilities 
or fewer obstacles to the developement of talent. 
A boy's case will not be desperate, though he can- 
not make Latin verses; if he can comprehend a 
problem of Euclid or a moral of history, it will be 
received in connnutation for an exercise in proso- 
dy ; and if his mind can soar, the course will be 
left in some degree to his own choice, and not bo 
dragged back to earth, to flutter in one, for which 
he may feel nothing except repugnance and in- 
aptitude. 

There is one circumstance which has, in some 
respects, a favourable, in others an unfavourable 
tendency for literature, — and which of these pre- 
ponderates, is uncertain, though I am inclined to 
think the latter ; — this is the wide circulation of 
newspapers, and their extremely miscellaneous cha- 
racter, which furnish great variety of reading, and 
tend to encourage desultory habits of it ; they offer 
a receptacle for speedy publication, open to almost 
every one's communications. This gives an easy 



I 



171 

opportunity to young writers to try their pens ; but 
it also wastes the energy of many minds in discon- 
nected essays on subjects of temporary interest, the 
fleeting topics of the day. The facility of publica- 
tion, in this ready mode of occupying public atten- 
tion, is very attractive to those who want to express 
their thoughts without the labour of correction. 
Opinions made up under immediate excitement, 
commonly exhibit great rashness of judgment and a 
strong tincture of prejudice : a loose and careless 
style is adopted, in which violence and exaggeration 
supply the place of correctness and strength ; where 
the effect is from " the venom of the shaft, not the 
vigour of the bow." There are many persons who 
probably would not write at all, if they were obliged 
to write with more care and effort ; but there are 
some who have in this way got rid of their thoughts 
as they occurred, without the trouble of maturing 
them, and have frittered away powers of intellect, 
that might have produced works of permanent 
utilitv. 

We derive great satisfaction for the present, and 
entertain strong hopes for the future, from the 
advances we have made within a few years ; while, 
from the steps that have been taken, we may pre- 
sume upon a developement, a few years hence, that 
will exhibit a very high ratio of increase. The 
standard of education has been enlarging, instructors 
are more able, and students more accomplished. 
This is shown not only in the number and character 
of the books we have published, but is very obvious 



172 

and striking in most of our journals and periodical 
works. The transactions of our learned societies, 
exhibit very gratifying proofs of this progressive 
amelioration. The volumes of the Historical So- 
ciety, though they might be supposed to have ex- 
hausted the most interesting papers, still continue 
to be annually published, affording a mass of docu- 
ments, invaluable to the American historian. The 
Transactions of the American Academy, have been 
constantly improving, and will now compare with 
those of almost any learned Society in Europe. None 
of these labours are paid for ; — every thing of this 
kind is gratuitous, and these productions are the 
voluntary efforts of individuals, in the moments of 
leisure from active business, either in public or pri- 
vate life. Indeed, it may be considered as one of 
the advantages of modern literature, that the race 
of mere authors is almost extinct. Tiie character 
of literary men stands higher. It is not considered 
in Europe, as it formerly was, degrading to a man 
of noble rank or in high employ, to write a book ; — 
it now^ adds to his consideration. Men of learning 
and science have been discovered to be capable of 
various kinds of public employment, and talents 
no^v are not thought incompatible with performing 
an active part, either in public or private concerns. 
There is less encouragement in ours than in any 
other country, for a man to confine himself to au- 
thorship. This I think a great advantage ; it pre- 
vents genius from degrading itself by unworthy 
subserviency, and it gives servants to tiic public of 



17^ 



greater capacity. It brings men of learning and 
men of the world more into contact ; it blends the 
business of life and its instruction more intimately ; 
it destroys pedantry, and enriches literature. 



LETTER VI. 



FINE ARTS. 



My dear Sir, 

We agreed so fully in the opinion, that our coun- 
try was destined to acquire a glorious reputation 
from the successful cultivation of the fine arts, that 
1 very cheerfully answer your inquiries, as to our 
prospects respecting them. On this subject there 
is much prejudice, and it is so often considered 
under very narrow and false views of its importance, 
that I shall, at the risk of repeating many ideas 
which may be already familiar to you, presume so 
far on your patience, as to give an outline of the 
reasons which should influence us, nationally and 
individually, to promote the growth of the fine arts 
in our country. I think my observations will be 
capable of general application, but I request you to 
bear in mind, that I am writing mider the impulse 
of local impressions, and my allusions will be 
principally to facts existing in this vicinity. 



174 

It is impossible to avoid very confident expecta- 
tions of future glory from the arts, when we 
consider the numerous indications that we have 
given of aptitude for their cultivation. Surely, the 
eminent artists produced in this country, during the 
last generation, did not spring from mere chance ; 
but we shall continue to produce others in constant 
succession. If we claim as our countrymen those 
who pursued their profession under every disadvan- 
tage, from the strong instinct of talent alone ; and 
who were obliged to expatriate themselves at pe- 
riods when revolution and poverty prevented their 
employment at home ; we may calculate on having 
an increased number, when we are beginning to 
get models that will serve to awaken and guide the 
efforts of genius ; when Avealth has given us the 
ample means of patronage, — when the circle of 
taste is widening every day, and when a sense of 
national policy, is beginning to call on the arts to 
promote national feeling. 

In this, as in some other cases ; in almost every 
thing but patriotism and virtue, we are obliged, 
after admitting present deficiencies, and pointing 
out the remedy, to console ourselves, by looking 
forward. The difference between this and some 
older countries, is the difference between anticipa- 
tion and retrospect; ours are the pleasures of hope, 
theirs the pleasures of memory. We do not expect 
a harvest without having planted the seed, and 
proved the soil to be fruitful. Accidents may re- 
tard the growth, disastrous seasons may blight the 



175 

expected fruit; but these will be transient disap- 
pointments. A people enjoying the highest degree 
of liberty, and a power of expansion nearly unlimit- 
ed ; with facilities for all kinds of acquisition ; 
possessing wealth, learning, skill, and security for 
these advantages, must advance. Sanguine as some 
of our calculations have been, they have more often 
fallen short of, than exceeded the reality. The 
power of production in our country has nothing to 
fetter it, and every thing to maintain its excitement. 
As New- York and Philadelphia had already 
commenced institutions for the public patronage of 
the arts, a few gentlemen undertook to furnish a 
similar protection in Boston ; in which design they 
made some progress, and obtained a subscription of 
four or five thousand dollars ; but, I believe, suspend- 
ed its execution, to combine it with a plan for 
erecting a building for the Atheneum, that is in 
contemplation. An exhibition room, where pic- 
tures, models in architecture and sculpture, engrav- 
ings, &c. can be shown to advantage, is one of the 
most useful aids that can be given. If an artist 
paints a very large historical picture, that will ex- 
cite general interest, it will often reward him to 
exhibit it by itself; but smaller pictures, and other 
performances, require a common exhibition room, 
which will draw the attention of the public, where 
taste may be formed by comparing various styles 
together, and where the artist himself receives the 
most useful hints, by observing different manners, 
and learning to correct his own defects, by exam- 
ining both the beauties and defects of others. 



176 

When the subject was ajSjitated of commencing 
an institution to promote the arts which should 
grow with their growth, and be extended hereafter, 
if iound to be expedient ; the proposition elicited a 
good deal of obvious wisdom. Very sensible ob- 
servations were made by that numerous class, 
whose remarks are equally valuable the last day of 
the week as the first, and who are always ready 
upon a new proposal, because they are always on one 
side. Others, in a spirit of true magnanimity, for- 
bore to express any opinion against a design of such 
inherent absurdity, that it must inevitably sink with 
its own weight. Others were unwilling to consider 
a subject at all, on which they had never reflected, 
and which they looked upon with indifference. 
Even many of those who were favourably disposed 
towards it, gave their assent in that feeling of pub- 
lic spirit, which induces them to wish well to every 
thing proposed for the public advantage, rather than 
to any particular conviction of the utility of this 
undertaking. You will then allow me to discuss 
some of the points which the question of encourag- 
ing the arts presents, and take a cursory notice of 
some of the objections, that have been made to 
them. 

To commence with objections ; — the most seri- 
ous one was that made by the Abbe Gregoire to Mr. 
Barlow, in his letter on the subject of one of the 
plates in the Columbiad ; an olyection which has 
been sometimes urged by others, and which, if it 
were just, ought to be fatal, — that the arts exercised 



177 

a corrupting influence on society. Now that 
society has sometimes exercised a corrupting in- 
fluence on the arts, is unfortunately true ; but yet no 
one will probably contend that society ought to be 
destroyed. There have been very immoral books 
published, but no one would consent to renounce 
the use of printing If too many artists of the 
Italian school delineated the voluptuous fables of 
antiquity, it was because the profligacy of their 
patrons left them no alternative. The tendency of 
all the higher branches of the art is unquestionably 
to elevate the mind ; and in this country, or in 
England, no artist of any note can be reproached 
with licentious works. The arts have, perhaps, no 
conservative quality that can preserve them pure 
in the midst of profligacy and debasement ; but they 
will certainly be found on the side of all that is 
grand and sublime in human character, so long as 
the disposition of their country and the spirit of the 
times, will uphold them in that cause. 

It was said to be premature to make a foundation 
for the arts before they existed among us ; — we 
shall be very glad to have them hereafter, when 
people have acquired a taste for them ; — they will 
come in due season. It was not thought prema- 
ture by our ancestors to found a college for teaching 
Latin and Greek, before they could raise Indian 
corn enough to feed themselves through the year ; 
and yet, to the barren rocks from whence they 
caused the living sources of learning to flow, hun- 
dreds have resorted, from distant and more fertile 

23 



178 

regions, to drink of the stream, and pay homage to 
their foresight ; and from these very fountains the 
whole country has been refreshed and invigorated. 
Yet with what a smile of insolent pity, would modern 
sagacity have regarded a scheme for teaching Greek 
and Latin, when they were almost destitute of food 
and clothing ! It could not be premature, when 
our neighbours were commencing similar attempts, 
respecting which, we must choose between being 
the rivals or tributaries. Besides, it was not a 
V^atican or a Louvre that was proposed ; — it was 
not the intention to import delicate exotics to be 
nourished by artificial heat ; no, — it was only to 
shelter and protect what our own soil had produced, 
— what had grown up within our borders, from the 
native riches of the clime, and to prepare, in the 
most gradual manner, the means of future develope- 
ment. 

It was said we had not wealth enough ; for this 
objection there are at least two answers. In the 
first place, we have more wealth than many coun- 
tries possessed, when they carried the arts to the 
highest state of splendour; and more money has 
been expended on foreign productions, altogether 
worthless — tawdry coloured prints from worn-out 
plates, for example, than would have furnished a 
sufficient, temporary support, to our own produc- 
tions. We have a taste for splendid furniture in 
our houses, and certainly prove, by their appear- 
ance, that we have the means of gratifying it. No 
one will assert that we have so little taste or senti 



179 

ment, as to be insensible to the pleasure of looking 
at some interesting native landscape, some delinea- 
tion of a memorable event in our history, some like- 
ness of a departed patriot, or a public benefactor. 
If these could be obtained, there are few even vt^ho 
would not, if it were necessary, forego the pur- 
chase of some gilded bauble to procure them; and 
if there are any doubts whether the influence of 
taste would go so far, there can be none about the 
power of fashion, or that it would be exerted in this 
direction. 

It is not strange, perhaps, and ought not to excite 
vexation, that mistaken notions should prevail upon a 
question, which circumstances have not given occa- 
sion to most persons to reflect upon sufficiently. Yet 
nothing can be more absurd, than some of the 
observations that have been thrown out. When on 
a recent occasion, it was proposed to erect certain 
monuments, or procure the busts and portraits of 
some eminent patriots ; it was declared that we did 
not want pictures or statues, that we had no taste 
for the fine arts, and were too poor to encourage 
them. Now, the only fine art that had much to do 
with this question, was gratitude. When it was 
proposed to commemorate some national triumph, or 
to perpetuate the likeness of some great patriot, it 
might have been inferred, from the objections, that 
it was intended to have a statue of an Apollo, 
or a painting of the siege of Troy ; rather than the 
Death of Warren, and the Battle of Bunker's Hill. 



180 

If indeed the object was merely to found a school 
for the production of that ideal beauty, or those fine 
delineations of the allegorical and picturesque, which 
can afford such delight to the connoisseur, it might be 
left to him to provide for his own gratification. 
Ignorance only can deny, that there must be some- 
thing of high value and attraction, in those fragile or 
diminutive specimens of the genius of Greece, which 
have survived the existence of the people that pro- 
duced them, and outlived powerful empires. These 
productions, that have excited the envy and admira- 
tion of all cultivated nations, cannot be destitute of 
merit ; yet if the subject were confined to them, 
however innocent or refined the pursuit of such 
studies and tastes might be, it should be considered 
a matter of individual luxury, not of public concern ; 
a subject to be left to the management of the dille- 
tanti, not demanding the interference of the state, — 
But is it so ? Is this the only point of view in which 
it is to be regarded, and are policy and patriotism 
wholly uninterested in the event ? 

I would not have you think me insensible to the 
delight which exquisite performances in painting, 
sculpture, architecture, or music can afford, — far 
from it, — ^without any pretensions to connoisseur- 
ship in either of these branches, I would not wil- 
lingly renounce the pure and elevated pleasure which 
they have inspired, even in one so ignorant of those 
arts as myself; but it is not for the sake of this 
pleasure, though its tendency is to raise the mind 
above gratifications of a coarser nature, that the 
encouragement of the arts should be promoted ; nor 



181 

should this pleasure give the impulse for their estab- 
lishment in this country. The grounds on which 
they should be protected and fostered, belong to the 
patriot and statesman, and not to the virtuoso. 

If we had gone on, as we were proceeding, till 
within a recent period, we should have formed in 
the end a collection of very intelligent and skilful 
planters, farmers, mechanics, and traders ; but we 
should have gradually lost what we possessed of 
national character and patriotic feeling ; we should 
have had no rallying points for public sentiments, no 
topics for general enthusiasm, no sanctuary where 
patriotism could have taken refuge from the violence 
of party ; we should have been degraded into tribu- 
taries to foreign nations, in every thing that regarded 
sentiment, and been destitute of all the associations 
that ennoble the love of country. Even our parties 
formerly, seemed to renounce everything indigenous 
in their contests ; and arrayed themselves in foreign 
liveries, echoing the vaunting of other nations, until 
they had well nigh forgotten they had one of their 
own. If a mob contended at a theatre for some 
popular air, it was, God save the King, or Ca Ira ; 
if a festival was held, the songs commemorated the 
triumphs of foreigners over each other, and some- 
times, by implication, over ourselves. Our houses 
were decorated with French victories by land, and 
English ones by sea. The print shops of Europe 
supplied us with representations of their warlike 
triumphs, their beneficent actions, their illustrious 
men. All that excited admiration, all the sympa- 



182 

thies of a public nature, that blend themselves with 
the holiday emotions of the human heart, were 
engaged in the service of strangers. Such a state of 
things could not last, and if it had endured much 
longer, our national existence would have lingered on, 
without glory and without security. Events gradu- 
ally weakened this humiliating state of things, and 
the late war consummated its ruin. We have now 
popular ballads, and festal songs of our own ; we 
too can show our battles by land and by sea, and our 
triumphs on both ; we too have begun to recollect, 
that we had national events to commemorate, and 
great men to honour. A reviving animating impulse 
has been given to public sentiment ; the glory of 
our Revolution, and the services of its illustrious 
men, have begun to occupy the attention of the pub- 
lic. The national and state governments are awak- 
ening to a sense of their true interests in this respect ; 
the actions and the portraits of our own citizens 
will become the ornaments of our cities and dwel- 
lings ; and national gratitude is at length heartily 
engaged in securing our national fame. To further 
perpetuate these purposes, constitutes the invaluable 
utility of the arts, and furnishes their noblest voca- 
tion. 

If all history be not false, all knowledge of the 
human heart vain ; the erection of public monu- 
ments, the keeping alive the remembrance of great 
services, by tlie aid of the arts, is the reward most 
ardently desired by genius and heroic virtue. The 
common and instant favours of society, are the pre- 



183 

vailing motives for a great number of the most use- 
ful and indispensable services, and sufficiently gra- 
tify many honourable and meritorious men ; but such 
are not minds of the first order. The famcB sacra, 
fames is the instinct of elevated souls, and the 
prompter of the noblest class of actions. Nor is it 
enough that such actions should only be recorded in 
history ; they must be represented in visible memo- 
rials in our temples and public edifices ; there they 
are recognized by every citizen, and not reserved 
for the observation of the student ; there they are 
brought often and palpably to view, and not kept 
out of sight in neglected annals. If the arts were 
to have been finally proscribed in this country, the 
deleterious effects would have gone deeper than 
would be at first imagined. We should have depre- 
ciated our own character, by neglecting all posthu- 
mous reputation. All mankind would have been 
admitted to our Temple of Fame, except an Ameri- 
can : it would have been a misfortune for a great 
man to have been born here ; he could have obtained 
no entrance through its gates ; he would have been 
like the people of France on the week days, exclud- 
ed from their museums, which, with great courtesy, 
are shown to strangers ; he would have felt like 
a Frenchman, whom I once heard exclaim with vex- 
ation, on observing a small party entering a reserved 
part of the garden of plants at Paris, to which he 
was refused admittance, when he was told it was 
because we were foreigners, and he was a French- 
man, — " Ah. ! comme on est malheureux d^etre Fran- 
cais.^^ 



184 

To these high purposes the arts have been gradu- 
ally directed, by that progress of improvement, 
which has operated such great ameliorations of the 
state of society, within the last fifty years. They 
have been withdrawn from frivolous employments, 
to the most useful purposes. The ancients engaged 
the arts in the service of religion and patriotism. In 
their state of ignorance, with respect to the former, 
the arts were a powerful ally ; and the gods they 
produced for the adoration of Pagans, still excite 
the admiration of more enlightened worshippers. 
Their patriotism was also nourished by them, and 
statues were erected to all those who had served 
the state. When the arts revived in modern times, 
they were enlisted, particularly painting and archi- 
tecture, in the service of religion. They after- 
wards fell off from this direction, and became sub- 
servient, in a great degree, to mere fancy and luxu- 
ry. They have experienced another revolution, and 
are now returning to their legitimate uses. In 
France, the government has employed painters and 
sculptors in representing the actions and the indi- 
viduals, that will live in history. In England, the 
same course has been followed, and perhaps to 
greater extent. Mr. West has been a great leader 
in this course ; — his Death of Wolfe, Battle of La 
Hogue, Death of Nelson, and many other historical 
events, are well known. Mr. Copley's Death of 
Lord Chatham, Victory of Admiral Duncan, Death 
of Major Pierson, &c. &c. ; Mr. Trumbull's Sortie 
of Gibraltar, &c. are instances, among many others ; 



I 



185 

and I have named these, because here were three of 
our countrymen engaged at one time, in the service 
of a foreign state. Sculpture, in England, has been 
almost exclusively employed in the service of the 
nation. The numerous monuments ordered by Par- 
liament in Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul's, have 
employed all their eminent artists ; and the busts of 
distinguished individuals, in addition, are nearly all 
the works they have produced. How much more 
rational and honourable is such occupation, both for 
the artist and the public, than the production of 
ideal figures, only to exemplify skill in the concep- 
tion of imaginary beauty. Figures of this descrip- 
tion, gods and goddesses, in modern times, border 
upon affectation and ridicule, since they create few 
of the associations that made them interesting to 
the ancients ; and as there are some half dozen 
statues among those which they have left, that are 
models of the various kinds of ideal beauty not to 
be surpassed, it would seem better to have copies 
made of these, and let our artists devote them- 
selves to monuments, which will connect their 
names with the history of their own times and 
country. 

There is one of the arts that is so indispensible in 
almost all climates of the world, that every people, 
above the condition of troglodytes, are obliged to 
recur to it. Shelter, in many countries, is as ne- 
cessary as food, yet how imperfect with us is the art 
that prepares it. How few buildings in this country, 
either public or private, are constructed with a due 
24 



186 

regard to the principles of beauty, or a wise distri- 
bution as to convenience for the occupants. How 
often are they left to mere mechanics, who erect 
them with the aid of the " builder's assistant," with 
about the same degree of success, that would be 
obtained in a correspondence, guided by the " Com- 
plete Letter Writer." Surely, next to agriculture, 
architecture should receive the fostering care of the 
state, when so much of the economy, the appear- 
ance, and the comfort of a country, depend on its 
being well understood, and thoroughly adapted to 
all the wide variety of purposes, to which it is sub- 
servient. 

A foundation for a school of architecture is now 
peculiarly necessary. Our buildings, public and 
private, are every year becoming more important 
and expensive. Our race of wooden buildings is 
annually decaying, and more permanent ones erect- 
ing in their stead. Bad, inconvenient plans and de- 
signs, violating the principles of the art, are now 
more than ever to be deplored ; because, when of 
wood, they might have decayed, or been burnt up ; 
but now, all blunders will last for centuries. Al- 
most every year some churches are erected ; — what 
a pity that we could not get a style of building bet- 
ter suited to the purpose of religious worship, than 
those awkward wooden lanterns, that are almost 
every where exhibited. The period has now gone 
by, when the spirit of religious dissent, which pro- 
scribed the Lord's Prayer, and the reading of the Bible, 
determined also to dispense with every thing like 



187 

dignity and solemnity in churches, as abominations, 
that would lead to dangerous errors. Probably, 
many parishes might now be brought to give up 
having a window to each pew, out of which they 
could all stare at any passing object, whilst the 
minister was performing their duty of devotion ; 
and they might be induced to have their meeting- 
house so constructed, that the congregation should 
be separated from all exterior objects ; and being 
freed from the glare of sunshine and numerous lights, 
find, in the solemnity of more sober tones and per-v 
feet seclusion, an appropriate situation for the exer- 
cises of devotion. 

It was remarked by a distinguished individual, 
many years since, " that the genius of architecture 
seemed to have shed his malediction over our coun- 
try." Some buildings have been erected within a 
later period, which prove that the spell may be bro- 
ken. Our progress has been from wood to brick, 
from brick to marble and granite. In Baltimore and 
New- York, the churches are the handsomest build- 
ings ; in Philadelphia, the banks. There is one build- 
ing for this purpose in the latter city, which you well 
know is admitted to be the most beautiful edifice in 
this country, and there are two or three others that 
are worthy of observation ; but the churches are 
remarkably plain and mean. This led to the 
remark of a lady : " that it was easy to perceive 
" what deity the Philadelphians worshipped, by the 
*' temples they erected to him ; their temples of 
" mammon were the most splendid in the United 



188 

"* States, their churches the meanest." It may 
weaken the pungency of this sarcasm to observe, 
that this state of their churches was owing to the 
strong predominance of Quakerism ; one of whose 
whims it is, to proscribe every thing elegant, varie- 
gated, or majestic ; this principle, which is carried 
to a singular degree of perfection in their meeting- 
houses, had its influence over other sects, especially 
when their relative numbers were very different from 
what they are at present. We can boast of nothing 
equal to the buildings alluded to, but we have made 
one step in the progress of improvement ; — we are 
getting rid of our wooden edition of edifices, and 
constructing them of brick or stone. The latter, 
particularly, is getting more and more into use, 
and our future buildings will present at least one 
requisite, the appearance of solidity, in which they 
have hitherto been lamentably deficient. 

It is not only very desirable that we should intro- 
duce a correct style of architecture, since we have 
begun to make use of more durable materials, but 
it is absolutely necessary, because the more refrac- 
tory character of our materials will drive us into 
more simplicity. When soft pine wood was the only 
article used in the construction of a house, except 
the rough stones for the cellar walls, and the bricks 
in the chimney, it was easy to mould it into any 
form ; and this has often led to a very preposterous 
and fantastic use of ornament. Columns, pilasters, 
balustrades, porticos, turrets, and all the minor 
kinds of architectural ornaments, have been some- 



189 

times most absurdly lavished ; — a. false taste has been 
formed in consequence. We tried our hand at the 
most complicated variations, before we were able to 
judge of the simplest accords. But it is harmony 
and simplicity, in architecture, as in music, that give 
pleasure, not the combination of difficulties and exu- 
berance of ornaments. The two styles which are 
best suited to our circumstances, are the Gothic for 
churches, and the Doric for other buildings. The 
first is susceptible of any degree of ornament, or 
will admit of the greatest plainness ; the other, in 
its majestic simple harmony, has produced the most 
striking, and the most durable edifices in the world. 
Trinity church, in the Gothic style, at New 
Haven, is the handsomest church in this part of the 
Union;* there are in Boston, Providence, and in 
some other towns, places of public worship that are 
not destitute of merit, but it is united with great 
defects. It would be an invidious task to point out 
all these, but there are two cases in which bad taste 
has operated to destroy a good effect, where it might 
have been produced, that may be mentioned as 
examples. A church was built a few years since in 
Boston, for which the original design was very hand- 
some. It was intended to be a parallelogram, with 
a Doric portico ; the walls were plaui, with large 
windows, making only one story, and built of a 
beautiful white granite. Thus far the original design ; 

* Since this was written, two chiirclics have bten erected, that in purity of 
design surpass all others in the Uiiion. Christ Chtireh in Gardiner, Maine, and 
St. Paul's Church in Boston, hotli of stone; the former Gothic, the latter Gre- 
cian, nre the finest specimeosof these styles-, exi^Iiiif iii this ciMinliy. 



190 

but the plans of an architect have to pass through 
the hands of a committee. The first thing that was 
done, was to add a steeple ; a very pretty one ; and 
this though a sort of monster in the architecture, is 
justifiable, from the agreeable effect it produces at a 
distance : no church indeed ought to be built without 
one ; a village spire is always picturesque, and 
awakens pleasing emotions, and the effect of stee- 
ples and domes, in giving an air of animation and 
grandeur to a town, may be judged of negatively, 
by seeing what a dull, lifeless, unmeaning aspect 
Philadelphia presents to the observer without, though 
it is such a handsome city within. The next alter- 
ation was to change the form to an octagon, a fig- 
ure which is appropriate enough for a crystal, but 
is an absurdity in architecture. The portico was 
Doric, but these columns, though made of wood, 
were with an Ionic proportion ! thus mutilating and 
destroying its whole beauty. To remedy this glar- 
ing fault, an addition, which does not belong to 
the order, was put on at the bottom, to diminish 
their dyspeptic appearance, that only increased the 
disorder. If it had been proposed to paint one red, 
one green, one blue, one yellow, it would have been 
scoffed at as absurd ; and yet it would have been a 
less grievous blunder than has been committed now ; 
for it is not uncommon in Italy, to see columns of 
different coloured marbles in the same edifice, where 
the proportions are all alike. Fortunately these 
deformed columns are of wood, and must soon grow 
shabby. They will then perhaps be replaced by col- 



i 



191 

umns of the Nova Scotia freestone, which is easily 
worked, and is now getting into use here, for every 
thing where the chisel is required. 

Circumstances like these ought to be made known, 
to save the honour of the architect. A similar 
instance may be mentioned in the State House in 
Boston. The committee were alarmed at the idea 
of expense, and therefore ordered ten feet of solid 
wall to be left out of each wing in the length, and 
a proportionate quantity in the width : this of 
course gave it a lantern-like appearance, and made 
the dome so out of proportion, as to crush the edi- 
fice. It is hardly worth while to criticise a building 
of brick, with wooden ornaments ; but from its com- 
manding situation, and general outline, this produ- 
ces at a distance a much better effect, than many 
more costly and handsome buildings. One other 
instance may be mentioned, where a fine effect is 
destroyed still more perversely, because the pretence 
of saving is extremely trifling. A very excellent 
and capacious establishment for an insane hospital, 
has been recently made in the vicinity of Boston. 
The centre of this hospital was formerly a large 
country house, standing in a very conspicuous posi- 
tion ; the estate was purchased, and two additional 
buildings, as wings, advancing in front, on diverg- 
ing lines, are connected by galleries with the centre 
building, and might have been made to form a noble 
and imposing whole. But this has been marred. 
The centre, which is of brick and stone, and the 
connecting corridors, are painted a lii^ht yellow : the 



192 

wings are left with their original colour of the red 
brick : there is something so delicious in the colour 
of dingy red bricks, especially in the country, that 
no one could have the heart to paint them over. 
The consequence is, that the w^hole is disjointed, and 
from the points where they would be seen to the 
greatest advantage, may be taken for great ware- 
houses or manufactories, and seem to have no con- 
nexion with the centre building. Now, if this 
arrangement had been made by any of the unfor- 
tunate tenants, it would have been put down to a 
broken disordered intellect, but it being by those 
who have the direction of them, nothing is said. — 
There is a great deal of injustice in this world. 

It is a cruel thing to architects to have their plans 
mutilated without remorse, or consideration of them, 
in a scientific point of view. In a free country 
every thing of this kind is done by committees, 
composed commonly of men who may be invaluable 
from their active habits of business or benevolence, 
but who are too apt to consider the plan and appear- 
ance in a subordinate point of view, from a misap- 
prehension of their real importance. These mis- 
takes are not confined to our country ; England 
has many awkward edifices to show. There is one 
very remarkable one, of which you may have heard 
the history. I allude to the Mansion House of the 
city of London : when this was about to be built, 
the Earl of Burlington, who had great taste in 
architecture, sent a very classic design for the edi- 
fice ; but it was from Palladio. The worthy Com- 



193 

uion Council knew nothing and cared nothing 
about Palladio ; they adopted a plan of one of their 
own citizens, " a man whom they knew," a ship- 
carpenter ; and the building he produced for them, 
has much more nearly the appearance of the stern 
of a three decker, than any other edifice on the sur- 
face of the land. I would not have architects trust- 
ed implicitly ; they are often led into plans of 
useless and dangerous extent ; but the harmony of 
a design ought not to be lightly destroyed. Very 
glaring defects in public buildings are a standing 
reproach to a community, and they are mischievous 
in accustoming the eye to deformity. Taste ought 
not to be too much disregarded ; it is often the 
synonyme of judgment, and if consulted in the ex- 
ternal appearance, it will, on the mere principle of 
congruity, regulate what is within ; and the im- 
provements resulting will not be superficial, but go 
to the right distribution of every thing that is solid 
and essential in the art. 

There is another art which is the handmaid of 
all the others, whose productions are more easily 
understood than either of the rest ; an art which is 
daily increasing both for use and ornament, enabling 
us to participate in some degree in the pleasure of 
beholding numerous objects of sculpture and archi- 
tecture, as well as painting, which else would be 
beyond our reach ; you know, without my naming 
it, that I mean the art of enj^raving. By the aid 
of this, we obtain a correct idea of all the noblest 
efforts of sculpture and architecture, and a still more 

25 



194 

complete representation of all celebrated paintings. 
Engraving is, to all the other arts, what printing 
is to literature. It multiplies the copies of what is 
deserving of admiration, and brings them within 
the walls of every house. The patriot and the 
philanthropist is thus every where known ; this art 
puts it in our power, when paintings are beyond 
our means, to decorate our rooms with the portraits 
of those we love and honour, though they may 
have lived in other times or in other regions. 

There is another department in which this art is 
of great importance, and where the use of it is con- 
stantly increasing ; this is in education, and almost 
all kinds of instruction. A representation of ob- 
jects, instead of a description, is a prodigious facili- 
ty to children in acquiring knowledge. This 
method has been much extended of late years, and 
capable of yet wider application ; it would be diffi- 
cult to estimate all the advantages that have result- 
ed from it in the early stages of education. The 
extension of the science, and the multiplication of 
machinery, make its aid of some consequence to 
almost every individual ; there is no man who has 
not experienced the difficulty of comprehending the 
appearance of any object of natural history, or any 
machine for the purpose of agriculture or manufac- 
tures, from mere description, but who obtains a 
perfect idea of it at once from an engraving. There 
are few books to which this art cannot add, either 
a most agreeable embellishment, or indispensible 
explanation. 



195 

It would be too tedious to go into further exem- 
plifications of the positive utility of the Fine Arts ; 
but it is in this point of view chiefly that I should 
regard the question of introducing and fostering 
them. From their most elevated purposes, their 
influence descends, by nice gradations, to almost 
every branch of human industry ; it is felt in many 
kinds of manufactures, and materially promotes 
the beauty and excellence of most productions of 
the mechanic arts. Every country must possess 
them, or become tributary for their results to others. 
The sections of the United States that take the 
lead in their encouragement, will have very great 
advantages over their neighbours, not only in intel- 
lectual refinement, but in the products of their 
industry. 



LETTKR VII. 

ON THE RELATIVE RANK OF AMERICANS. 

My dear Sir, 

From some expressions in your last letter, 1 
infer that your friend the Baronet has made some- 
thing like a complaint against me, on which 1 wish 
to offer you some explanation. 1 showed him very 



196 

cheerfully all the civilities that were in my power, 
on your introduction, and because he was a stran- 
ger : he could not help being a dull man, and I was 
willing to overlook it. On one or two occasions, 
however, he assumed certain airs in society, which 
induced me to treat him a little cavalierly. You 
will believe, that I am incapable of intentionally 
hurting the feelings of any man, without provoca- 
tion, of whatever condition he may be. On this 
occasion it was too trifling to cause much sensa- 
tion ; and I thought his perceptions rather too ob- 
tuse, to have felt the slight shade of difference in 
my conduct. The circumstance gives me a good 
theme for some remarks on relative rank, which I 
have long intended to offer you. 

The comparative rank between Americans and 
the subjects of European monarchies, has never 
been settled ; there is no common umpire whom 
both will acknowledge. The legends of heraldry 
are not accredited by us ; we cannot be marshalled 
by the Garter King at Arms, or the Grande Maitre 
des Ceremonies ; there is no international code that 
can adjust the respective pretensions. We must 
maintain ours, by preserving with vigilance the 
freedom, civil, political, and religious, which we 
enjoy at home ; and by securing exterior considera- 
tion, from a course of integrity, firmness and inde- 
pendence towards foreign nations. In the mean 
time they are apt to fall into the mistake, of level- 
ling us down to similar denominations among 
themselves. They see no titular rank among us ; 



197 

they see nothing but planter;^, merchants, and pro- 
fessional men ; no noble idlers ; and they place us 
in the condition of such characters in their society, 
to whom they assign a subordinate rank. But 
this will not do ; men who have higher privileges 
in one country, cannot be classed with those who 
hold lower ones in another. 

Our situation and that of England approach the 
nearest ; tlie identity of language, the similarity of 
laws and habits, make the examination of our 
relative circumstances more easy, and 1 shall there- 
fore have a more particular reference to them than 
to other nations. The English nation has long 
been the envy of its neighbours, for its free institu- 
tions ; and the more enlightened and generous 
minds on the continent, have made, and are still 
making, great efforts to obtain the same advan- 
tages. The English were not insensible to their 
good fortune ; it has always furnished a theme of 
exultation. The perfect security of civil rights, 
and high degree of political liberty they enjoyed, 
wTre apt to make them arrogant, presuming, and 
contemptuous towards their neighbours, who were 
subjected to gross inequality of personal rights 
and a state of servitude ; mitigated only by the 
spirit and intelligence of the nation. English inso- 
lence became proverbial with those, who were 
often exposed to its observation. This is not a 
very amiable feature, but it is a natural one ; the 
feeling of freedom elevates those who possess it, 
and they will be prone to treat with contempt 



198 



those who are without it. The freest nation must 
be the proudest, and they will often irritate, by an 
exhibition of this pride, those who are their infe- 
riors in this respect. The English are the freest 
people in Europe ; but their government is a mon- 
archy founded on a gradation of rights and privi- 
leges ; the body of the nation is on a near equality 
of condition, but there are a few with hereditary 
advantages, which place them infinitely above their 
fellow subjects. In this country no class is pro- 
scribed for the sake of the rest ; every man is born 
with the same inalienable rights ; no one can claim 
precedence of another from birth, and no man can 
be raised except by his merits, talents, or services, 
above his fellow citizens, and by their consent and 
during their pleasure. We in fact live in the high- 
est and most perfectly organized state of freedom 
that ever was known ; the condition of man is 
higher than has ever been assumed by any nation, 
ancient or modern, and the consequences are in- 
evitable. 

We are born under a perfect equality, so far as 
human enactments can produce it, and every man 
has a chance of elevating himself, if he has the 
capacity and inclination to do so. It results, that 
there is a freer bearing, a more unshackled gait in 
people of all classes, than is seen in other countries. 
A merchant, a farmer, a professional man, feels 
no inferiority of rank, and his personal position is 
therefore higher. In England, where the security 
of civil rights maintains great independence of 



199 

character in the people, — a sort of defiance, even, 
growing out of this conviction of persona! security, 
and a sullen consciousness of political inferiority, 
may be more often witnessed than in this country ; 
where the perfect conviction of political equality, 
and the absence of all titular pre-eminence, give a 
cast of independence to the manners, the more care- 
less and good-natured, as it never thinks of subser- 
viency. You will understand me to be speaking 
generally ; I know that we have narrow-minded 
farmers and planters, paltry attorneys, and sordid 
traders ; — but, take the same classes of men in the 
same circumstances, — suppose them to possess the 
same degree of good sense, education and liber- 
ality, — the consciousness of equality will make the 
American superior, or prouder in his feelings, than 
the Englishman, who acknowledges, and if he 
attempts to shake it off, is made to feel, that he 
holds a subordinate station in society. 

An Englishman might say — ^you seem to hold 
very extravagant pretensions ; you acknowledge no 
gradations. How far do you carry them ? 1 give 
you up our city knights, but surely, you, a plain 
citizen of a republic, will give precedence to our 
baronets ? Certainly not ; they are the lowest order 
of your nobility. — You would, then, place yourself 
on a footing with a baron, or a viscount ?— Those are 
only gradations in your privileged orders ; I ac- 
knowledge none. — Well, then, you rank vourself 
with the premier peer of England ? You wonder,— 
but this comes nearer to the case ; I assent to no 



200 

inherent, abstract niferiority ; I am equal to any 
man in my own country ; I must, therefore, de- 
grade and forswear that country, or feei myself 
equal, in natural rank, to any man in your's ; and 
if you have established a scale of privileges, to 
which, from policy, or necessity, you are willing to 
submit, it is not binding on me ; — I place myself at 
the top of the scale, and not at the bottom. The 
shape of the button of your mandarins, or the col- 
our of his dress, is a matter of indifference ; — no man 
possesses higher privileges than myself, in my owji 
country. I therefore place myself with those, who 
have the highest in your's. This must be the feel- 
ing of every high-spirited, well educated American- 
Coarse minds will be apt to show it offensively ; 
well-bred men will be content with feeing it. 
They will not go abroad to be either missionaries or 
bullies ; nor will they dispute with the customs or 
feelings of other nations. Others may rank them 
as they see fit, but the reservation in their own 
breasts will preserve their just situation. There is 
such a strong infusion of republicanism in the Eng- 
lish laws and manners, that their difference of privi- 
leges is less obnoxious to the feelings than in 
most other countries. A private gentleman there 
may preserve his independence in retirement, and 
rarely come in collision with any galling claims of 
precedence. But, if he goes to court, or into pub- 
lic life, he must submit to the pretensions of others, 
and take rank beneath them. 



201 

The English nobility was formerly so restricted, 
that the privileges of hereditary rank were seldom 
encountered. During the present reign, the titled 
class has been prodigiously increased, so that what 
Madame de Stael calls les iioms historiques, are 
now swallowed up in the crowd. There were 
formerly just nobles enough to form a suitable 
show at court, and serve as a necessary pageant 
to the crown. Various motives of policy have 
enlarged their number, and lessened the relative 
importance of the old noblesse. A recent innova- 
tion has excessively multiplied the number of titled 
persons. Formerly there were two or three orders 
of knighthood, very limited in extent, which served, 
sometimes, a useful purpose to the court or the 
ministry, in securing the support of some powerful 
peer, whose vanity was sighing for a yard of blue 
riband. The republican principle of public ap- 
plause and esteem, was generally sufficient for 
those, who distinguished themselves in the public 
service. The practice of the Continent, which 
made all such individuals courtiers, by giving them 
stars and ribands, has lately been adopted in Eng- 
land. One of the orders, particularly, has been 
greatly enlarged, and the continental forms adopted ; 
— knights' grand crosses, and commanders, and 
knights' simple, multiplied ; and the little, vain 
display of a piece of red riband, has converted all 
these into courtiers, and multiplied the class of 
expectants for similar favours. Whether this change, 
which is a more considerable one than it appears, 

26 



202 

be useful or not, does not coilcern us, and I express; 
no opinion about it; but you will perceive that it 
multiplies greatly the number of privileged persons 
of a subaltern class, who take rank of those who 
are not thus decorated, and would add to the num- 
ber of persons, to whose pretensions we should not 
accede. 

It is, perhaps, on the whole, a disadvantage to an 
Englishman to come to this country with a title. Il 
makes him conspicuous, and excites a kind of gaping 
curiosity among the frivolous, who know nothing of 
lords and knights, but from plays and novels. They 
are apt to associate an idea of superior polish and 
refinement with a title, and when they are disap- 
pointed, in meeting this, the individual sinks as much 
too low in their appreciation, as he was before too 
high. With graver persons there is an association, 
from reading history, with great names, that is wo- 
fully disappointed when they see the modern repre- 
sentative ; condemned, with feeble faculties, to totter 
under the burden of an illustrious appellation. The 
illusion is dissipated, and there is none of the habi- 
tual deference to mere rank, to keep up considera- 
tion. A man of genius, however, would, in this 
country, find it no disservice, unless he disliked 
notoriety. To such a man as Lord Byron, for 
instance, — his title would be no incumbrance , but 
the homage would be paid to the poet,* not to the 
lord. 

* This was written before Den Juan was published. — Alas^ 



203 

Such principles, it may be said, will have a 
tendency to keep up a proud, turbulent, ferocious 
spirit. It might be so, if they were confined to a 
few individuals. But their universality forms the 
corrective. Where they are generally felt, every 
man must acknowledge the same rights in others, 
which he claims for himself — and if he forgets to 
do this, he is immediately put in mind of it. On 
the contrary, the tendency may be rather towards 
an insincere deference and civility, than to an arro- 
gant, supercilious demeanour ; — since, as no public 
employment can be obtained but from the suffrages 
of others, the desire of popularity will generate 
habits of courtesy, where there is no real feeling of 
good-will. 

There can be no fear, that this high feeling of 
equality will induce too much presumption, or make 
those who entertain it ridiculous and absurd ; yet 
cases of this kind will, without doubt, sometimes 
occur. Though we are born with the same natural 
rights, a thousand circumstances vary our condition ; 
— genius, education, and the numerous gradations 
of good and evil fortune, chequer and direct our 
course. None but a fool will deny that one man 
possesses greater talents, another greater wealth, or 
greater strength, than himself, and every one will 
be ready to give precedence where it is due, that he 
may be in turn enforce his own claims. It is the 
idea of abstract inferiority, that we renounce and 
deny. We do not allow that any man comes into 
the world our superior, — that he is born with here- 



204 

ditary privileges, which give him advantages over us, 
while in every other respect he may be decidedly 
our inferior. The divine right of kings, the infalli- 
bility of popes, the hereditary wisdom of senators, 
we laugh at, and consider quite as illegitimate, as 
the pretension of certain Asiatic barbarians, to a 
relationship with the sun and moon. 

These principles in substance, not in form, are 
gaining ground in the world. That true apprecia- 
tion, which, founded on the generous maxim of ori- 
ginal equality, disregards artificial, barbarous dis- 
tinctions, and ranks men, not according to their 
birth, but their merit, is daily becoming more preva- 
lent ; the last thirty years has done much towards it ; 
the next will make a further addition. The ame- 
lioration is progressive, and unless the diffusion of 
intelligence is interrupted, must continue, in spite of 
all the efforts of abuse, bigotry, and partial interests, 
to prevent it. Talents and services are constantly 
diminishing and eclipsing the prerogatives of birth, 
and all those false distinctions which arose in a bar- 
barous period. Consider the difference between a 
man of science in France, now, and in the days of 
Louis XIV. ; observe the different relations in which 
titled rank and untitled merit stand toward each 
other. Later policy has attempted to counteract the 
consequences, by enrolling the latter in the ranks of 
the former ; but this is only a temporary expedient, 
which cannot turn the course of public sentiment. 
In England, where the disparity was less shocking 
than in France, it is easy to remark the change that 



205 

has taken place ; it may be discovered in all their 
works that treat of manners ; plays, novels, and 
poetry. The different style of considering himself 
and of treating others, between a courtier, a century 
since, and now, is almost as great as it was in France. 
The man of rank does not value himself upon that, 
if he has any thing else to produce, and if he has 
not, he treats those more like his equals, who are in 
fact his superiors. The fellowship of mankind 
has become much more equal, much more intimate. 
The tone of arrogance and insolent condesc en- 
sion, which we read of in the manners of former 
times, would no longer be endured. 

Let us, my dear friend, glory in our country and 
its institutions : our ancestors laid the foundations 
for a noble empire ; they came here with high ideas 
of freedom, and their descendants have improved on 
the principles they left them. The eyes of the 
world are turned towards us with anxiety and hope; 
we have made the boldest experiments in the science 
of government, hitherto with the most complete 
success, and unless our posterity prove recreant to 
example, to their own interests and honour, our 
experience will hereafter be claimed in favour of 
mankind. What immeasurable good will result, if 
it can be shown to the world that a nation can dis- 
pense with the ruinous burdens of a hierarchy con- 
nected with the state, and an hereditary nobility ; — 
and who in this country can doubt it ? Every day 
shows our constitution to be stronger, from being 
founded on the broad principles of natural justice; 



206 

on the equal interests and affections of a whole peo- 
ple, than if it derived a precarious existence, by 
securing the interested support of a part, at the 
expense of the rest of the community. — £^5^0 per- 
petua. 



CHARACTER AND COI^DITION OF WOMEN. 

My DEAR Friend, 

You smile at the pretty compliment 1 paid you 
when we last met, in having attributed the dis- 
agreeable weather we then felt to your agency ; and 
accuse me of want of gallantry. I acknowledge 
it was a piece of awkwardness, but you well under- 
stand that you must have the magnanimity to over- 
look occasional instances of it. I know not how 
such a speech should have occurred to me, for I 
alwaj's feel as if in sunshine when in jour presence : 
the truth, however, is, that it was owing to a certain 

confusion of ideas. When you leave , it seems to 

me as if there was nothing left there ; that you bring 
every thing with you, and therefore that even the 
weather came too. A little reflection indeed would 
have convinced me of the absurdity of this : but it 
is impulse, not reflection, that governs your friends 
when they first meet you. 

What a task have you imposed upon me ; it was 
done so lightly and so gracefully, that I thought it 



207 

was easy at the moment, and yet when I come to 
i;onsider the undertaking seriously, I faulter with the 
burthen. An account of the condition, character, 
and manners of your sex here ; and a comparison 
between these, and the state of female society in. 
other parts of the United States, and other coun- 
tries, would be a performance of no less difficulty 
than interest. Still, to show my readiness to per- 
form whatever you enjoin, I will offer you a few re- 
marks on my countrywomen ; claiming in advance 
your indulgence for any mistakes I may fall into, 
and that you will not attribute my deficiencies to 
any hesitation at receiving your injunctions as a 
law. 

My observations may perhaps prove too general 
^and vague, as I should be afraid of exposing myself 
to great mistakes in going much into detail. Many 
things appear strange, which, if w-e were acquainted 
with the motives of them, would be perfectly rea- 
sonable. — You may recollect, that when our friend 

-, resolved to have his own furnished apartments, 

after having every thing in readiness to take posses- 
sion, he bought a bushel of ashes ! Most people 
thought this one of the unaccountable whims of a ce- 
libataire ; but every person who had been in Paris, 
where he had formed so many of his habits, and 
seen the admirable economy of a French fire-place, 
would have been satisfied with the foresight and 
convenience of this preparation. 

From an accurate account of the condition of 
women in any country, it would not be difficult to 



208 

infer the whole state of society. So great is the 
influence they exercise on the character of men, 
that the latter will be elevated or degraded, accord- 
ing to the situation of the weaker sex. Where wo- 
men are slaves, as in Turkey, the men will be the 
same : where they are treated as moral beings, 
where their minds are cultivated, and they are con- 
sidered equals, the state of society must be high, 
and the character of men energetic and noble. 
There is so much quickness of comprehension, so 
much susceptibility of pure and generous emotion, 
so much ardour of affection in women, that they 
constantly stimulate men to exertion ; and have at 
the same time a most powerful agency in soothing 
the angry feelings, and in mitigating the harsh and 
narrow propensities, which are generated in the 
strife of the passions. 

How much of the decrepitude of Italy, of that 
fine country, where the people, as a whole, are so 
nerveless and submissive, while the individuals 
that compose it are gifted with the highest capaci- 
ties and susceptibility ; how much of this national 
imbecility might be traced, to the monstrous and 
perverted condition of their women ! They are kept 
out of sight, in strict subservience, till they are mar- 
ried : they receive the husband that is given them 
without objection, as the means of emancipation, 
and make a choice as soon as the nuptials are over. 
The object of this choice, the cavalier servente, be- 
comes at once the most insignificant of slaves ; and 
all this takes place with the consent and approba- 



209 

tion of society. How many of the misfortunes of 
France may be traced to the less vicious, indeed, 
but false position of their females ; where women 
are taught to be adroit, graceful, glittering, smart, 
intriguing ; treated with uribounded deference, as 
objects of amusement, without one particle of real 
respect as women ; easily reconciled to the faithless- 
ness of a husband, and satisfying his honour, if they 
do not betray his interests. When the unity of do- 
mestic life is thus broken, the charm is gone ; when 
home is cheerless, those who abandon it become 
profligate and reckless, and substitute noxious plea- 
sures for its calm and genial delights. From a com- 
ponent part we may judge of the whole ; a nation 
is an accumulation of families : where the happi- 
ness of the latter is sapped, the disorder will per- 
vade the system : if there is no private happiness, 
there can be no public spirit, no solid patriotism. 
Other motives must be substituted, which increase 
the corruption ; skill and energy may still govern 
such a nation, and make it powerful for a time, and 
for a long time ; but the progress of decay is still 
going on, and destruction cannot be averted. 

Even in England, where a superior state of so- 
ciety is found, the situation of women is partially 
attainted with evil ; but it may be hoped that this 
evil is not encroaching. In the middling classes, do- 
mestic life is well regulated and harmonious: all 
the influence of the female character is exerted in 
the most desirable manner, and the virtues and en- 
ergy of the nation are principally to be found witlji- 
27 



210 

ill these limits. The two extremes of society 
have each their peculiar vices, which impair the 
respectability and mar the happiness of the females 
who belong to them. In the lowest ranks, particu- 
larly in the large towns, the men are addicted to 
drunkenness, and spending a large portion of their 
earnings, in a stupifying habit of passing hours or 
even days together in their alehouses, smoking, and 
drinking strong beer. The wife is in the mean time 
struggling hard to support herself and children, with 
the simplest necessaries of life, while her husband 
thus wastes all his surplus earnings ; and when he 
comes home, in an intoxicated state, she is exposed 
to his brutality and cruelty. At the other extreme 
of society, the evil arises from more complicated 
causes ; and though confined to a few, the mischief 
is great, because the examples are prominent and 
commanding. The people of the highest condi- 
tion are not in reality the most pure and refined in 
their sentiments. Born to the certainty of high 
rank and g;reat w^ealth, an early consciousness of 
their importance is developed ; the forward, inso- 
lent child becomes, too often, the headstrong arro- 
gant man. The advantages of superior education 
are sometimes neglected ; and the individual over- 
whelmed with temptations, seldom makes those ac- 
quirements which would prevent his resorting to 
coarser gratifications. Too many motives of pride 
and ambition always interfere, to allow of mar- 
riages founded on mutual affection. Haughtiness, 
egotism, the impatience of restraint, and the habit 



211 

of profligate indulgences, soon interrupt the simpli- 
city of domestic life, and the female is exposed 
either to the dreary blank of slighted affection, or 
to the sad alternative of bestowing it criminally. 

Take the condition of women among us, com- 
prehending all classes; and through their whole 
career, from infancy to age, I need not fear contra- 
diction in saying, that it is the most fortunate in 
the world. There are in other countries a few who 
are artificially elevated ; who have more power ;•— 
and if power forms happiness, why then more 
happiness, than any females in our country. In 
some nations, women who possess great attractions 
and accomplishments, are vastly more caressed and 
flattered for a period of their lives, than any of 
their sex are here ; but they are afterwards often 
treated with the most mortifying neglect, which is 
embittered by the recollection of former attentions. 
But if there are none so high, there are none so 
low, as the thousands who are found on the other 
side of the Atlantic. No such figures as the 
streets, the markets, and the fields present in Eu- 
rope, are to be seen here. The market-women of 
all descriptions have a coarseness and hardihood, a 
masculine ugliness that we never witness. Nor is 
this confined to the towns ; but in the country, as 
they are habitually occupied in the labours of agri- 
culture, tanned by the sun and hardened by ex- 
posure to the weather, and severe labour, the female 
peasantry present an appearance wholly unlike any 
class of women among us. 



212 

To begin with tlie most numerous order,-— with 
those who commence life with nothing but strength 
to labour for subsistence, and the hope of future 
competence : — In the country, or the towns, the 
females in this class are never exposed to work in 
the open air. All that is required out of doors is 
performed by the men. That the women are very 
assiduously, and even laboriously employed, every 
one may witness, — but their labours are almost 
wholly domestic, and performed under shelter. 
They are not seen driving market carts, standing in 
the streets, carrying heavy burdens, or engaged 
from morning to night in the open fields. They 
are not exposed to the inclemency of the weather, 
to the promiscuous mingling with the crowds of a 
city, or in large groupes in the toils of the field. 
They live secluded in the performance of their 
household labours, and rarely meet in any assem- 
blage, except when they go in their best attire, 
with decency and solemnity, to public worship. 

Besides, they have higher hopes than the labour- 
ing classes in Europe. The journeyman may look 
forward with certainty, to become, in a few years, 
if he has common skill and industry, a master 
workman in his turn. The farmer is not, as in 
Europe, a mere peasant, labouring on land which 
he never dreams of owning ; but he is here a pro- 
prietor, though he begins at first with only a log- 
house, and a piece of forest to be cleared, he is 
sure that, in the end, he shall possess a productive 
farm, and the means of comfortable subsistence. 



213 

The women in these classes, who are often more 
refined and ambitious than the men, conduct them- 
selves with a view to their future situations ; and 
often stimulate their husbands to those exertions 
for acquiring property and improving their children, 
in which they are willing to participate. This 
prospect of bettering their condition, operates very 
favourably upon them, since it encourages the men 
to domestic habits and economy ; who know their 
savings will all be productive of very compound 
advantage, and that, as they advance in life, they 
may look forward to a comfortable support from 
the results of former labour. 

The excitement produced by this well-founded 
expectation of rising in the world, has had many 
beneficial consequences. A degree of pride, and 
greater self-respect, have brought their aid to the 
assistance of some of the moral duties. If we may 
believe some traditions of former manners, there is 
a great improvement in them. The rapidity of 
intercourse, the increase of reading, and the activity 
of trade, have carried light into every district. The 
fashions and opinions of the day make their way 
into the meanest village ; — the conduct of all is 
open to observation, and the tendency to assimilate 
is therefore universal. There are, no doubt, some 
inconveniences arising from this same source, but 
these are only inconveniences, — while the advan- 
tages are substantial and progressive. This senti- 
ment produces an evident reluctance in all services 
that are not gratuitous ; and that awkward, vulgar 



214 

pride, which is abashed by the superiority it is 
afraid to acknowledge, though it seldom acts offen- 
sively, by insult, yet shows itself too often in the 
defensive, by a cold and churlish demeanour. 

The pervading influence of fashion, to which 1 
have alluded, in doing away all peculiarities, may 
be advantageous in some respects ; but it makes a 
sad diminution of the pleasure of the artist and the 
traveller, in destroying all variety, and much that 
is picturesque. A general fusion and blending of 
dress and manners, is the characteristic of the age. 
There will be, hereafter, no distinctions of costume 
to be met with. In Europe and in America the 
same fashions now make their way from Paris and 
London, to Naples and St. Petersburg, Boston and 
New-Orleans. There are still some districts in 
Europe, in Holland, Italy, Switzerland, and France, 
where the inhabitants take a pride in maintaining 
their ancient dresses ; — some of these are extremely 
pleasing, others highly grotesque. The women, of 
all ranks, at Caux, in Normandy, wear a head-dress 
at least a yard in height, by the aid of wires, gauze, 
ribands, and their own hair. In Friesland, the 
female attire, though arranged with great art, is in 
the highest degree absurd and ludicrous ; and the 
same may be said of many other places. These 
preposterous dresses add much to the amusement 
of the traveller ; — they illustrate the barbarous taste 
of the times in which they originated, — but offer 
nothing to be imitated. I am here tempted to 
mention a visionary scheme that has sometimes 



215 

passed in my mind ; and as it will procure you a 
laugh, though at my expense, I am willing to com- 
municate it. You must have often smiled at the 
deterioration which these European fashions suffer, 
by going through so many hands, most of them 
unskilful ones. These ill-made dresses appear the 
worse, from the gaudy materials of which they are 
composed ; and silk and muslin attract a cruel atten- 
tion, where homelier articles would pass without 
observation. Now, suppose our ladies were to 
resolve on a permanent peculiarity of costume, 
which should be subject to no change or deviation; 
— would not great advantages result from it ? — Let 
me allude to some of them. 

In the first place, the general taste is now very 
good, and the facilities for consulting the best stand- 
ards, extensive and entire. There is no danger that 
any Gothic extravagance, any cumbersome excres- 
cences, or any bigoted prejudices, will interfere to 
produce deformity. It would not do to adopt a dress 
for a whole state ; — this would produce too much 
uniformity, — but let it be marked by counties. Sup- 
pose two or three ladies from each town should 
form a committee, to agree upon a dress for their 
county, — woollen for winter, and cotton for sum- 
mer ; the pattern should be chosen that would 
best answer the purpose of convenience and sym- 
metry : the bonnet and shoes, as well as the style of 
cap for the matron ; of the hair for young women, 
would be regulated on the same principles. In hav- 
ing these forms once fixed, the raantua-makers 



216 

would soon become more expert in making the 
clothes to fit, since that would be their only object, 
and not to attempt to imitate or invent new fancies. 
In one county the colour might be blue ; in another, 
brown, purple, green, &c. with simple trimmings of 
a suitable colour, to form a harmonious contrast with 
them. The bonnet would be straw^, black, or the 
natural colour, with ribands to accord with the dress, 
and in any of those forms which would be most 
convenient and graceful. We should then never 
encounter a figure with green shoes, black stockings, 
a blue gown, and yellow bonnet, or any of those 
luckless attempts at display of fancy, which we 
sometimes meet, in the country and the town. Im- 
mense Slims would be annually saved, that are now 
employed in foreign productions, and every family 
might lay out these savings in objects of substantial 
comfort, in improving their farms, or in education of 
a higher kind. The materials of which the clothes 
would be composed, are of our own growth, wool 
and cotton. There would be nothing needed from 
abroad, except the ribands, and these would soon come 
to be made here. Our own manufacturers would 
be encouraged, because, when the article was once, 
in permanent demand, and without capricious varia- 
tion, they could soon bring it to perfection, to the 
exclusion of foreign competition. If the principal 
families in every county consented to this arrange- 
ment, and agreed never to wear any other dress, 
except when they went out of the state, it would 
soon become a matter of pride, and a point of hon- 



217 

eur, to appear in their own peculiar costume. A 
distinction would be made by those who could afford 
it, which would not be offensive, because it would 
be less obvious, by wearing the same uniform dress, 
of finer texture. This would do away the envy 
and ruinous competition, that now takes so much 
from laborious earnings. 

I have slightly alluded to some of the incidental 
advantages, that might result from a voluntary regu- 
lation of dress, such as economy, encouragement of 
our own manufactures, &c. ; but these are trifles ; — 
the grand advantage is, that women would look 
better, and their charms would be better displayed. 
You will say, perhaps, that this might be the case 
with some, but how can it be with all ? Take a 
regiment with uniform, or without, individually, or 
in a body, — which looks best? Even the most 
ordinary are helped by the uniform dress, while 
those who are superior, acquire greater bril- 
liancy from it. Yet, it is in vain to propose such a 
scheme ; the age is sophistical, and you are infected 
with its spirit. Formerly, women dressed to please 
men, — but this simple, natural, honest motive has 
gone by. They now dress to please one another ; 
their costume is as full of concetti as Italian poetry ; 
no man can understand it ; nor do you consider us 
at all ; you dress to excite admiration or envy in 
your own sex, and it is their remarks, or their suf- 
frage, that you attend to. There are a thousand 
futile, expensive nothings in embroidery, fcc. that 
go to make it up, and which none but a milliner 

28 



can appreciate. It would require less expense and 
less time to please men, and the purpose would be 
more natural and more generous; but it is in vain 
to repine ; we must submit in this, as in many other 
things, to the power of fashion. 

To return from this digression ;— some of the 
advantages possessed by females in the labouring 
class, are also felt by those next above them ; but 
as you rise in the scale of property, the disparit}^ 
between the lot of women here and in Europe, is 
much less perceptible; though the prospect that 
opens before them, of advancing themselves or theii 
children, is still the same. However humble may 
be the pursuit of the parents, their children, if gifted 
with talent, may, with suitable education, look for- 
ward to the highest distinctions. This produces 
some abortive attempts to quit their sphere, some 
murmuring at discomfiture ; the good still predom- 
inates ; a wider field for th^ selection of talent is 
opened ; constant exertion is excited ; a wholesome 
rivalry is kept alive, and in the growth of society 
the universal tendency is upwards. 

The last fifty years, which have so prodigiously 
advanced the improvement of society every where, 
has also witnessed a most salutary change in the 
education of women. In the days of our grand- 
mothers, it was an amiable and rare accomplishment 
to be able to spell correctly and write legibly ; nay, 
it was even considered in some countries derogatory 
to rank to be able to write well, which was thought 
to be only suited to authors, clerks, or similar sub- 



219 

altera employments. Grimm, in his Memoirs, gives 
a very amusing specimen of the gross ignorance of 
orthography in the famous Marshal Saxe, worthy of 
his illustrious station ; and the ignorance of the 
Marshal was common to the higher ranks in his day. 
Fashions change with time ; what would be held 
disgraceful now, was vaunted then. As the Parisian 
hairdresser, who, just previous to the Revolution, 
boasted to a traveller, whose hair he was bringing 
into fashionable shape, " that though he was nothing 
but a poor barber, yet he had no more religion than 
the best philosopher of them all ;" so many a trades- 
man might boast, that he could not write any better 
than the greatest nobleman about the court.— 
" Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid," 
— ^but the boon was long imperfectly known ; very 
serious concerns were necessarily intrusted to the 
fidelity of a third person ; and if an impatient lover 
received a billet musque he could hardly tell whether 
the hieroglyphics it contained, conveyed love or 
hatred. 

The reform in this respect commenced with men, 
after it became evident, that if rank had the power 
to save vice from contempt, it could not shield 
ignorance. When it was proposed to extend the 
advantages of education to the other sex, a strong 
opposition was raised ; which though it has been 
obliged to cede point after point, still maintains 
itself within narrowed limits. Those women even, 
who had been brought up in ' the good, old fash- 
ion way,' — were many of them desirous that their 



220 

daughters should be as ignorant as themselves. 
Men, whose wives had more sense than their lords, 
still asserted their own superiority, because they 
had more learning ; but if women could construe 
a line in Virgil, or go through a process in arithme- 
tic, as well as themselves, this high-minded superi- 
ority would be destroyed. All who were attached 
to the abuse from habit or profit, were, as usual, 
sturdy in its defence. But these efforts are in vain 
on a great scale, or where any general question is 
involved. The spirit of improvement, which was 
called into vigour by the invention of printing, has 
been gaining ground with an increasing ratio ever 
since. We may as well attempt to stop the passage 
of the light which has not yet reached us from 
remote stars, as to arrest its progress ; it will pene- 
trate to the darkest corners in time. 

It sickens the heart to consider the monstrous 
extent, to which the selfishness of mankind will 
carry abuses. One body will contend that a whole 
nation shall be degraded, that they may enjoy an 
hereditary superiority ; another, that the people 
shall not be taught to read, lest they should learn 
that their condition might be improved ; another^ 
that they shall not have a Bible, for fear they might 
be puzzled in reconciling what is taught, with what 
was commanded. This same feeling existed among 
many narrow-minded men, respecting the educa- 
tion of women ; they would keep them ignorant, 
in order to give to their own attainments an arro- 
gant superiority ; or if they taught them any thing 



221 

else than household affairs, it would be some showy 
accomplishment : — To instruct their minds ? to 
teach them to think ? No, that was to be depre- 
cated. Men with this slight modification of Tur- 
kish spirit, commonly employ arguments that are 
worthy of its views ; yet even good arguments will 
not long support false views. If there was former- 
ly much time wasted in the education of boys, b} 
an improper distribution of studies, it was vastly 
worse with respect to girls ; whole years of their 
time were thrown away in the repetition of the most 
insignificant pursuits, or in attaining excellence in 
tedious futilities. Each sex has some studies that 
are appropriate ; girls need not learn fencing ; they 
can reach our hearts without it ; nor a boy 
embroidery, even though he should employ his 
skill, like Ferdinand of Spain, on a petticoat 
for the Virgin ; yet there are many studies that 
may be common to both, the pursuit of which will 
have a useful influence in assimilating their taste, 
multiplying their sympathies, elevating their charac- 
ter, and increasing their happiness. It is singulari- 
ty only that should be avoided, except under rare 
and peculiar circumstances. If but one girl in a 
town could construe Latin, or tell the composition 
of atmospheric air, it might make her very unhappy, 
or ridiculous, or both ; but when this instruction is 
more generally diffused, it ceases to create vanity, 
or to give rise to a taunting, painful notoriety. 

The children of both sexes enjoy equally the 
advantage of our common schools. There are, 



222 

besides, many academies and private schools for 
females exclusively, besides boarding-scliools in and 
near the large towns. In some of these the course 
of instruction runs high, and is accompanied b} 
what are commonly called accomplishments. In 
niany instances the girls are taught Latin, not that 
it is of much consequence to them to know that 
language, or that they are expected to follow the 
steps of Madame Dacier ; but as grammar is every 
where taught, they can acquire a knowledge of the 
general principles from the Latin grammar, in a 
more amusing way, than by the study of the Eng- 
lish one ; and even a slight insight into the Latin, 
facilitates considerably the acquisition of Frencli 
and Italian, which form an important part of an 
accomplished education. There are examples among 
our females of very considerable proficiency, in 
more than one of the learned languages ; and in 
those I have known, this knowledge has not made 
them pedantic ; nor did they seem to perform the 
ordinary duties of domestic life the worse, though 
they knew that the ^Eneid was written in Latin « 
and the Iliad in Greek, and could translate a passage 
from either. 

The advantages of giving a superior education to 
women, are not confined to themselves, but have a 
salutary influence on our sex. The fear, that in- 
creased instruction will render them incompetent or 
neglectful in domestic life, is absurd in theory, and 
completely destroyed by facts. Women, as well 
as men, when once established in life, know that 



223 

there is an end of trifling ; its solicitudes and duties 
multiply upon them equally fast ; the former are apt 
to feel them much more keenly, and too frequently 
abandon all previous acquirements, to devote them- 
selves wholly to these. But if your sex have cul- 
tivated and refined minds, mine must meet them 
from shame, if not from sympathy. If a man finds 
that his wife is not a mere nurse or a housekeeper ; 
that she can, when the occupations of the day are 
over, enliven a winter's evening ; that she can con* 
I erse on the usual topics of literature, and enjoy the 
pleasures of superior conversation, or the reading of 
a valuable book, he must have a perverted taste, 
indeed, if it does not make home still dearer, and 
prevent him from resorting to taverns for recreation. 
The benefits to her children need not be mentioned ; 
instruction and cultivated taste in a mother, enhance 
their respect and affection for her and their love of 
home, and throw a charm over the whole scene of 
domestic life. 

These effects are widely shown, especially in that 
numerous class who have received a good education, 
but whose moderate fortune or retired residence, 
keeps them from mixing in the gayeties and crowded 
circles of fashionable life. The charms of litera- 
ture are here a useful equivalent for less quiet 
amusements. Indeed an acquaintance with the 
literature of the day is at least affected by every 
one ; and a new work, or a new Review, is the 
common topic of conversation in every party. In 
contemporaneous literature, women are perhaps 



224 

greater readers than men, and often quite as good 
judges, though less confident in giving their opin- 
ions. The common subjects of chat with young 
men in the society of your sex, are the merits of a 
new work ; they sometimes, at the risk of a little 
silent ridicule, volunteer instruction, in a tone of 
condescension to those who have much more deli- 
cacy and tact in judging than their kind instructors : 
this, however, promotes amusement, and ladies are 
amply gratified ; for they, unlike the Turkish wo- 
men, have 

" Many bustling Botherbys, to show 'eiu 
The finest passage io tlie last new poem." 

The manners of our women in the leading ranks 
of society, are highly pleasing. They are gentle, 
refined, simple, affectionate. When intimately 
known, they will, I think, bear an advantageous 
comparison with those of any other country. They 
are not perfect, indeed ; — mind I am speaking gene- 
rally ; — but they leave little to desire. That little, 
perhaps, would be a greater degree of confidence, 
the shaking off that timidity, which communicates 
embarrassment, suppresses too much the expression 
of emotion, and sometimes the promptitude to ren- 
der little services, which they would gladly perform. 
This also makes them rather too retiring ; the mar- 
ried women become too suddenlv matronal : are 
too apt to shrink from the task — the word is used 
confidentially — of amusing and being amused in so- 
ciety ; and leaving it to young girls, who are less 



225 

competent to keep conversation from becoming in- 
sipid or inane. 

It is difficult to compare our women with those 
of France or England, because their manners, as 
well as their dress, resemble neither entirely, but 
partake considerably of both. Their dress is 
less foppish and extravagant than the French ; 
less crude and fanciful than the Fnglish. Their 
manners are less artificial and sparkling than the 
former ; less bold and decided than the latter. 
The crowds and the vices of the great European 
cities produce a degree of impudence in men in 
high life ; in their mode of staring at, and examin- 
ing the appearance of women. This, which, when 
it occurs here, excits downright alarm, is met in 
France by a coquettish shrinking ; in England by 
a passive defiance. An American is immediately 
struck with manners to which he is so unaccustom- 
ed, and will perhaps be more confounded at the de- 
fensive, and sometimes offensive, stare of a woman 
of high ton, than any thing else he can encounter. 

In regard to beauty, I am too much under imme- 
diate influence to be impartial in regard to distant 
claims ; and you will perhaps think, knowing how 
wholly I am subdued — that any thing said for trans- 
atlanic pretensions, may be a feeble attempt to es- 
cape from thraldom, which after all it would be 
painful to renounce. The American women, 
though their manners are almost as different as 
their language from the French, resemble them more 
in some respects, and would be more easily as- 
29 



similated with them than with the English. A 
personage of very high rank in England, who 
had seen in society, three or four times, two of our 
country women, who were sisters, inquired, " who 
are those two little Frenchwomen ?" And most per- 
sons would make the same mistake with respect to 
American women in England, especially those, 
whom they should meet in the circles of fashiona- 
ble life. Our women have the advantage over the 
French women in complexion, but have a less live- 
ly expression ; the English women have perhaps 
still finer complexions than ours, but the texture of 
their skin is coarser, which diminishes the air of 
feminine softness, that is common both to French 
and American women. The English women are 
more robust than either of the others ; their tem- 
perate climate enables them to lake more exercise ; 
they are, generally speaking, a stouter race ; their 
frames are larger, and they have a stronger and 
more substantial appearance. Compared with 
English, or even French ladies, ours have an air of 
languor, and a slowness in their movements and 
talking, which you know in the southern states is 
carried to excess. Vivacity and readiness are the 
characteristic traits of the French ; alacrity and en- 
ergy those of the English ; and languor and softness 
those of our women. Vivacity forms the greatest con- 
trast with the general manners of the last ; a lan- 
guishing air with those of the two former ; hence 
a common object of affectation with French and 
English women, is to put on an air of sentimental 



227 

or voluptuous languor ; with ours to assume a tone 
of sprightiiness. 

The comparison between our ladies and those of 
the middle states, I am unable to make with any 
degree of precision. The shades of difference 
must, of course, be very slight and delicate, and I 
have not studied them enough to make the descrip- 
tion distinct. There is a much greater mixture 
of foreign manners in New- York, Philadelphia, 
and Baltimore, than exists here ; — their ladies 
dress more, and perhaps better than ours. They 
make a display in the streets, particularly in New- 
York, which is never done with us ; nor would any 
persons, except mere spectators, wish to see the cus- 
tom introduced. The excessive sobriety of the 
Quaker costume, and a more true taste, have sim- 
pliiied the walking costume, and, indeed, all others 
in Philadelphia ; and it is, I believe, generally ad- 
mitted, that women dress belter there, than in any 
other of our cities. Female dress here, used to 
be too homely at one time, and too gaudy at 
another ; both these extremes have been corrected, 
and if, on some occasions, a little more elegance 
might be indulged, without extravagance, it is gen- 
erally what is decent and suitable, — neither sinning 
through parsimony and neglect, nor by ostentation 
and expense. 

There is one remark on a peculiarity of man- 
ners, which I make with less reluctance, as 1 know 
my opinion accords with your's. In Philadelphia 
and New-York, there is sometimes seen a decided, 
avowed intention at display, and a confidence in 



228 

aiming to be conspicuous, in joung girls, which is 
any thing but engaging. At a ball, or in a large 
assembly, they talk and laugh loud, and get a cir- 
cle round them ; and the ambition to be what is 
called a dashing belle, leads to the very confines of 
romping. I have often been amused at observing 
the expression in the countenance of a foreigner, 
which is produced by the utter confusion of ideas, 
such conduct creates in his mind. The mothers 
are to blame. They push their daughters forward 
prematurely, and encourage them to assume a lead- 
ing tone, which they have not experience enough to 
support with dignity or safety. The most interest- 
ing and delightful of all objects, a brilliant, fine, 
young woman, loses half her loveliness, when she 
is seen presuming, openly, on her attractions, in a 
crowded circle, and using, with boldness, all the 
arts of rivalry, to maintain pre-eminence. This 
fashion has not yet encroached upon the primitive 
reserve of our manners ; and (though for somewhat 
different reasons) would not be tolerated here, any 
more than in Europe. 

You must not think me harsh in censuring, or 
that I mistake the grounds of this levity. Our 
young women are in the situation, in which Inno- 
cence is represented by the allegory to have been, 
in the golden age, when she walked forth, accom- 
panied with Courage and Confidence, while Guilt 
was attended with Bashfulness and Fear. As the 
world grew worse, they changed companions, — and 
long may it be, ere the corruption of our manners 
shall render the exchange necessary here. Let all 



229 

the playfulness, all the vivacity that youth and 
happiness can produce, be discovered among familiar 
friends; let no unreasonable check be given to 
this ; we have hardly enough of it, either for the 
health of mind or body ; but let us beware of in- 
ducing our young girls to an ostentation of gayety 
in public, or attempting to usurp supremacy in a 
ball-room. It leads them too immediately under 
the dominion of the giddy, or the corrosive passions : 
it makes them the victims of vanity or envy. 

No one can be insensible of the invaluable bles- 
sings w^hich arise from a state of society, where 
young girls can be thus protected ; and where even 
many of those who have fluttered the gayest in the 
circles of fashion, renounce every amusement as 
soon as they are married, to devote themselves 
wholly to the duties and solicitude of domestic life. 
No one can wish to see our girls shut up in con- 
vents, or kept under severe restraint ; our married 
women become coquettes, and our young men ca- 
valieri servente. But there are many intermediate 
stages. Married women too readily renounce all 
exertion in society, which is apt to become insipid 
to them, when they are once engaged in the serious 
cares of life. Yet these need not be neglected, 
though social intercourse be maintained ; the habit 
of the latter, on the contrary, will alleviate the bur- 
den of the former. To engage in both, however, 
requires exertion ; and, perhaps, there may be some 
foundation for the reproacli of indolence, where 
either is disregarded. 



230 

The pleasures of society are certainly lessened, 
even if no other injury results to those who partake 
of it ; when they, whose characters are formed, and 
whose standing is fixed, recede too soon, or too 
much, from giving a direction to conversation and 
amusement. If they abandon this almost wholly 
to girls, the general characteristics of every gay 
circle must become more light and frivolous. 
Girls can neither have the experience nor the con- 
fidence to sustain any general conversation, that 
.takes other topics than the merest trifles; and the 
happy propensity of their time of life, to mere 
frolic and playfulness, renders it necessary to intro- 
duce suitable companions. Boys are then brought 
forward, prematurely, and where they are intruded, 
there is an end of all etiquette, of that deference 
and courtesy, which form the charm of large 
parties. There are some who think that our 
fashionable assemblies have deteriorated in this 
way. 

I have already dilated on the advantages which 
your sex enjoy in education here. There are few 
villages to be seen, where there are not several men 
who have received a collegiate education. Their 
conversation, their books, and their instruction, 
have had an influence on the education of females. 
A facility afforded to those w ho wanted to go a 
little beyond what they were taught at school, and 
the difficulty of procuring masters for polite accom- 
plishments, has given them more leisure for read- 
ing, and made them endeavour to compensate for 



231 

any deficiency in lighter attainments, by move 
solid information. 

This state of things is very unlike what exists in 
the middle states, where the institutions for educa- 
tion were in former times too much neglected, and 
where the sons even of wealthy people, received 
little more than the commonest school education. 
The perverse fanaticism of the Quakers, who had 
formerly a preponderating influence, and who, on a 
system of sobriety, industry, integrity and neatness, 
taught only the great art of thriving in the world, 
and proscribed all other kinds of knowledge ; in 
the endeavour to give the same drab or russet hue 
to their minds, which they had done to their gar- 
ments, produced an unfortunate neglect of all intel- 
lectual cultivation. If the boys were only taught 
to read, write, and cipher, the girls must be con- 
tent with a lower degree of instruction in these ac- 
complishments. In short, if the latter could read 
their Bibles, and calculate a domestic bargain, their 
mental instruction was completed. 

Fortunately this state of education has been im- 
proved of late years ; even the Quakers begin to 
find that learning is not sinful ; and that their sect 
must either keep pace with the spirit of the age, or 
sink into insignificance ; — as there is an end of per- 
secution, they have no other mode of maintaining 
their corps, or attaching any high respectability to 
themselves. While the mind was thus neglected, 
the personal appearance was improved, and grace- 
ful manners widely diffused. The influence of the 



232 

Quakers was here partially useful. Those female§ 
of their sect, who did not feel the importance of 
that part of religion, which consisted in wearing an 
ill-shaped, ugly coloured gown, or a queer little 
bonnet, preposterously prim, chose a more becom- 
ing and less affected costume. Their former 
habits, and a wish to avoid too glaring a departure 
from their friends, still inclined them to the Quaker 
simplicity, — only, instead of its uncomeliness, sub- 
stituting elegance. The influence of a large city 
was also felt ; and as Philadelphia acquired a dis- 
tinguished society while it was the seat of govern- 
ment, which it has never wholly lost ; an air of 
gracefulness, and the tone of fashionable life, was 
given to their principal circles, and which, like 
every thing else in this country, was readily imi- 
tated, and widely diffused. The same advantages 
were wanting here, and a less uniform turn, less 
appearance of the fashionable drill, more of a militia 
character of dress and movement, were prevalent. 
In short, you will sometimes meet there, under a 
very fashionable dress and manner, a most com- 
posing degree of ignorance : you will often find 
here much mental acquirement, under an exterior 
of consummate awkwardness and timidity. 

I am afraid I have tired you ; but you encounter- 
ed this risk when you gave me permission to write. 
I could still linger near this subject, if my letter 
was not growing to a volume. It is one, on which, 
though a constant observer, 1 am but an indifferent 
critic. You know the reason, — the 



233. 

•' allegiance and fast fealty 

Which 1 do owe unto all woman kyiid," 

Would that they had an abler champion — they 
cannot have a more respectful admirer. 

P. S. You speak of your ' enemies.' — I think 
you must be mistaken. I cannot conceive that you 
should have any. If, however, it be so, I will re- 
peat the laconic prayer of a zealous clergyman, 
during the war ; " may they be soon brought to 
reason, or to ruin." 



LETTER IX. 



AGRICULTURE. 



I KNOW of nothing, my dear Sir, that is a subject 
for more real congratulation than the attention 
recently given to agriculture, and the spirit for im- 
proving it, that is pervading every district in the 
Union. It was indeed quite time for this disposi- 
tion to show itself. The truth will be less painful 
now, since we have begun to amend ; but certainly 
there was no country, where greater ignorance, or 

60 



2i34 

greater lioglect oi this science, could be witnessed, 
than in the United States. This was owing to dif- 
ferent causes, in different parts of the country. In 
the south and the west, the proprietors held land 
enough to persist in bad management, for two or 
three generations ; an exuberant soil produced abun- 
dant crops, without artificial enrichment or very 
heavy labour ; when one field was exhausted, 
another was cleared, and tilled to poverty in its turn. 
This kind of farming so impoverished the country 
in some of the older districts, that the inhabitants 
were at length left to choose between emigration to 
a new region, or the employment of greater care 
and skill on their old farms : too many of them per- 
haps preferred the former. In this quarter a less 
fertile soil always demanded more labour ; yet few 
attempts were made to go out of the common rou- 
tine of a very restricted cultivation, and the inclina- 
tion was almost universal, to devote all their skill 
and capital to some of the branches of trade ; con- 
sidering all exertions to derive a greater profit from 
agriculture, as hopeless. The spirit of emigration 
also, acting with full force on an enterprising people, 
easily induced them to go to new states, in pursuit 
of the real or delusive advantages that were held out 
to them. This constant draining from our popula- 
tion, while it afforded a hardy, vigorous race for the 
cultivation of new territories; may have produced 
a greater increase to the ultimate good and power 
of the nation, than would have happened if these 
emigrants had remained stationary ; still it occa- 



235 

sioned some local disadvantages. In the first place, 
it prevented tlie inhabitants from thinking of any 
improvement ; if their farm was not sufficiently 
productive, the easy remedy to a restless people w^as 
to sell it, collect their effects and go five or fifteen 
hundred miles (the distance, greater or less, was not 
thought of) in pursuit of a richer soil. It was not 
by the employment of greater skill, but by a change 
of location, that they sought to improve their condi- 
tion. Improvement was discouraged in another 
way, not by the high rate of wages, which this 
facility of obtaining new lands had a tendency to 
maintain ; (high wages are a gain to the community 
at large;) but by keeping our population always 
scattered and thin, it prevented the means of bring- 
ing together, occasionally, a large body of labour- 
ers, which is sometimes very important for the secu- 
rity of crops in extended cultivation. 

There are two things that have been injurious to 
the agriculture of the United States ; one of whicli 
may be remedied in time; the other will always 
continue. The first, is the occupation of too much 
land, so that the labour applied to it can only pro- 
duce a very imperfect tillage ; the other, is the 
irregularity of the climate : this is every where felt ; 
in the eastern states it is an untimely frost in June ; 
in the southern it is the same accident in March, that 
injures the respective crops of these different terri- 
tories ; our geographical, and atmospherical posi- 
tion, if I may use the expression, will always subject 
us to these evils. But it is the consideration of 



236 

these unfavourable circumstances, in this quarter 
only, that comes within my purpose. With regard 
to the land, there is hardly a farm where the quan- 
tity of ground in tillage, is not too much for the 
strength that is to be employed upon it; hence, not 
only the labour, but the manure are diffused over too 
large a surface. 

The evil consequences are not only immediate, in 
giving a less amount of produce in each year, but a 
permanent gain is prevented. If the farmer, who 
now tills ten acres, were to confine his efforts 
to eight, his harvest would not only be equal 
the present year, but the prospective value of his 
farm would be enhanced. A more complete tilth 
and a heavier stock of manure upon the diminislied 
space, would leave it, after the crop was taken, more 
mellow and in better heart. If two farmers were 
selected, who should possess about the same degree of 
industry, skill, and means for labour, and who should 
proceed in their cultivation on lands of the same qual- 
ity, one of them stirring more surface than the other ; 
I have no hesitation in believing, that he who culti- 
vated one-fifth or one quarter less in quantity, would, 
besides having an equal harvest annually, find at the 
end of ten years, that his farm was worth double 
that of his competitor. The evil in question is so 
radical and extensive, that its bad consequences can- 
not be too often pointed out: though it is the most 
obvious, and has been most frequently remarked 
upon, it is still almost universal. 



237 

With regard to our climate, the greatest evil is its 
uncertainty ; in other respects, it may be as favour- 
able to agriculture, as most others, ft is true, the 
long continuance of winter, by depriving cattle of 
pasturage, and by interrupting a great deal of ?\^n- 
cultural labour, which must all be crowded into the 
remaining part of the year, is a serious inconvenience ; 
but then compare it with countries that escape this 
evil, and you will find them without the ripening 
warmth of our summers, and drenched wit! rp.in 
and fogs in the autumn and early part of v inter, 
when we are blessed with clear skies, and a fine 
temperature. The accidents we are liable to frr.m 
late springs and late frosts, are a peculiar evil, which 
we shall never escape, but which we may provide 
against much better than we do now. This evil is 
felt most by the farmer in the cultivation of Indian 
corn. A late spring throws him too far into the 
summer ; a late frost sometimes cuts him off alto- 
gether. Yet, if raising the plants in a hot-bed, and 
then transplanting them, could be practised success- 
fully, both these evils would be remedied ; but such 
has been our supineness with regard to agricultural 
improvement, that I doubt if the experiment has 
ever been tried decisively. 

The facilities every where afforded to our citi- 
zens for engaging in trade, and the great profits that 
for a considerable period accrued from it ; fostered 
a general inclination to place all their means in this 
pursuit, rather than in agriculture ; of late years 
at least this has been a very unprofitable course to 
many. The attention of intelligent and enterpriS'- 



^8 

ing men, was thus diverted from their farms to oth- 
er concerns ; no attempts were made at improve- 
ment ; no man thought of wasting his skill upon 
agriculture Very little attention was paid to the 
breed of cattle or horses ; the making of butter and 
cheese was miserably neglected, since it was found 
that, however bad it might be, a market would be 
procured for it. The routine of cultivation at least, 
preserved the primitive simplicity of our puritan 
forefathers. A field of Indian corn, with a border of 
potatoes, a few fields of the small grains, turned at 
intervals into grass lands, formed thb whole system ; 
and the only part of this that was performed with 
neatness and care, was the cultivation of Indian 
corn. This commonly received two or three 
ploughings and hoeings, was kept free from weeds ; 
and this plant filled the only fields, that were an 
exception to the general neglect and ignorance of 
agriculture. No root crops were thought of for 
the sustenance of animals : indeed, with the excep- 
tion of working oxen, if the others were kept from 
starving through the winter, the farmer was satisfi- 
ed, and each year was made to balance its own ac- 
counts. In a plentiful one, all that was raised was 
consumed ; and if a little waste was necessary to 
effect this purpose, it was readily resorted to. The 
abundance of one season was not calculated upon to 
supply the deficiencies of the next : if there was a 
large crop of corn, the oxen, pigs, and turkeys were 
somewhat fatter ; and if there was any hay left 
through the winter, it was considered a nuisance : 



239 

old hay being held to be poor stuff. It would have 
been difficult to find ten farmers in a county, who 
ever looked forward to blend the operations of two 
or three years together. In an unfavourable season 
they exerted themselves to make the two ends meet, 
by keeping their stock alive ; but the bounty of a 
prosperous one was thrown away, except that the 
cattle fared better, and therefore yielded something 
more to the owner. That this was the general -state 
of our agriculture, and that too much of it still con- 
tinues the same, no one who knows it can deny. 
The only exceptions are the farmers who raised 
roots in some places for exportation, and the market 
gardeners in the vicinity of one or two large towns. 
Even the attempts that were made at improve- 
ment, were cited as evidence against the possibility 
of deriving any thing from farming. An experi- 
mentalist, having surrounded his fields with ex- 
pensive fences, erected spacious, showy barns, 
planted orchards, and when once planted, consi- 
dered that work as done ; would cultivate his farm 
without much economy of labour, but a sparing use 
of manures, especially those of a permanent nature ; 
and finding his whole produce to consist of a few 
tons of hay, a few bushels of corn and potatoes, 
would assure you, from his own knowledge, which 
he had paid dearly for, that it was impossible to de- 
rive any thing from farming. So a few years since, 
when a sudden mania took possession of the public 
about the merino sheep ; and a man thought he had 
nothing to do but to buy a flock of merinos, give a 



hundred dollars a piece for them, and send them to a 
farm, under the charge of a man who knew no- 
thing about their management, aided, however, by 
his neighbours's dogs ; the result was cited with a 
significant look, or a knowing remark, as showing 
the folly of attempting to derive any thing from 
farming in this country. 

Among the advantages which the farmer posses- 
ses, the first may be considered, his exemption from 
rent, tithes and burthensome taxes. The land is 
subjected to no species of feudal imposition ; the 
common tenure is in fee simple, and there is no 
rent, unless the interest of the purchase money, 
which is small, can be so considered. There are 
no tithes ; — religion and education are, to be sure, 
supported every where, — but at a very moderate 
expense, since nothing can be exacted by luxury ; 
and each individual pays his contribution to what 
sect he chooses. There are no burdensome taxes ; 
those which would be most so, the militia, and high- 
way labours, are lightened by being paid in personal 
service, at the most convenient seasons ; — an intelli- 
gent and free people, who voluntarily impose these 
duties upon themselves, know that they are essen- 
tial, the one to the common good, and the other to 
the preservation of their rights. The wages of la- 
bour are, indeed, high ; — what goes in Europe to the 
exactions of the government, is here retained by 
the labourer, whose strength is sustained by plen- 
tiful nourishment, and who is enabled to lay up 
something from his earnings. 



241 

The next advantage is, that he supplies the dear- 
est market in the world, with great facilities for 
getting to it. There being no check, no limit what- 
ever, to exportation, the prices of the main articles 
of food are regulated here, not by the wants and 
supplies of the country, but by the general wants of 
the world. The commerce in grain being wholly 
unrestricted, a bad season in Europe is a premium 
to ihe farmer here ; and the fact has been, that we 
have always paid a higher price for bread than has 
been paid in Europe. This main article of food 
regulates all the rest. But another instance may 
be cited, which proves how advantageous a market 
our farmers possess for their produce ; — I believe it 
will be found, on examination, that the price of hay 
has been as high in Boston, and elsewhere in pro- 
portion, for a series of years, as it has been in Lon- 
don. 

An advantage to the farmer, individually, and a 
very important benefit in its general results, is ow- 
ing to the use of oxen, instead of horses, in almost all 
agricultural labour. This practice has been recom- 
mended in other countries, with no great success. 
The strength, the patience, the docility of these ani- 
mals, are admirable, — and from the universal habit of 
using them, it may be supposed they are managed 
with great adroitness. Yet, in many places, the 
whip is made use of, in driving them, though 
the goad is the true instrument. It is an amusing 
thing to observe a skilful teamster, with two yoke 
of good oxen, which constitutes the common force 

31 



242 

of a team, manoeuvring them where any considera- 
ble effort, or nicety in driving, is necessary ; — each 
ox has his own name, and much is done by the 
tones of voice, in ahernately threatening, entreating, 
and encourRging the animals ; who, in spite of their 
clumsy appearance, when it is necessary to make 
way in a narrow, difficult road, are more managea- 
ble than horses. A gentleman from a distant state, 
who had passed the summer among us, on his re- 
turn, met^ at a very narrow place in the road, a 
waggon, with a team of oxen. It seemed impossi- 
ble to pass ; as ne discovered some uneasiness, his 
coachman, whose mind had been deeply impressed 
with what he had seen of the management of oxen, 
told him ; " O, Sir, there is no danger ; these oxen 
know a great deal more than our people at home." 
In fact, after various ejaculations, which none but 
the oxen could understand, a due degree of backing 
and advancing, the waggon was at last adjusted, so 
that the carriage might pass, — greatly to the admi- 
ration of its owner. After a life of labour, this 
valuable creature, when killed, is worth at least his 
first cost to his owner ; — while the horse, supposing 
the cost of supporting him and his labour to have 
been the same, is entirely worthless. 

A prospective advantage, of great importance to 
this whole section, is, that the best lands, even in 
the cultivated and populous districts, with the ex- 
ception of the intervale on the banks of rivers, are 
yet to be reclaimed. There are tens of thousands 
of acres of wet, swampy lands, that may be easily 



243 



and cheaply drained, that are now wholly without 
value, except in the supply of firewood, which is 
generally of slow growth, and inferior quality. 
Tliese low grounds, sufficiently elevated, however, 
to be almost every where susceptible of being com- 
pletely drained, so that in many cases they might 
be used for the planting of corn are commonly 
composed of a rich, deep soil, the deposite from the 
neighbouring uplands. When so far cleared as to 
produce their natural grasses, the growth is so 
coaree, that it is hardly worth the trouble of cur- 
ing ; while the same lands, if drained, and sowed 
with the cultivated grasses, would give the heaviest 
crops of the most valuable hay. A considerable 
quantity of rich upland, which is now devoted to 
this purpose, would then be liberated for the pur- 
poses of tillage. Besides, these moist meadows 
are certain in their produce, and in dry seasons, 
when the grass on the uplands hardly yields a 
quantity worth mowing, would give a rich harvest. 
The grasses, too, which soon run out on dry lands, 
in a moist, deep soil, may be considered permanent. 
A good many spots have been thus converted, with- 
in a few years, from producing mere useless weeds, 
to the finest sward of nutritious grasses ; and 
increasing attention is given to these neglected 
grounds. Those who have examined the surface 
of the country, know, that there is a much greater 
proportion of these lands than would be at first 
imagined, which are capable of being easily brought 
into use, and changed from the most worthless, to 
the most valuable land in the country. 



244 



There is another description of land, of which 
very large tracts are found on every part of the sea- 
coast, which is a reproach to our agricultural man- 
agement. I allude to the salt marshes. These are 
generally composed of a fat, rich soil, often several 
feet in depth. At })resent the^y produce a crop of 
hay, which is worth only half the price of the up- 
land produce. Attempts liave been made in many 
places to dyke out the sea-water ; in some few the 
most luxuriant crops have followed ; in most others, 
the natural grasses have been destroyed, the land 
run to waste, and after a few years, the salt water 
has been ajj;ain admitted to cover them. Doubtless, 
the growth they furnish, the depth of soil, and 
other circumstances, may make some of these lands 
more difficult to be reclaimed than others. But, I 
doubt whether most of the experiments have been 
well conducted, and whether they have not failed 
from being made imperfectly. Though the tide 
has been kept from overflowing the surface, the 
Writer within has been too near its level, to per- 
mit the soil being properly freshened. Thou- 
sands and thousands of acres of land in England, 
that were once overflowed by the tide, have been 
embanked, and now produce the richest crops. In 
Flanders and Holland, half the country must have 
been originally in this situation ; and lands now 
below the level of the tides produce not only the 
finest hay, but are cultivated with vegetables and 
grain. Some of the richest lands we have might 
be made to do the same here, and would afford the 



245 

largest returns, instead of a sorry crop of salt hay. 
It is a prominent object in our agriculture, that a 
full experiment, on a large scale, should be made 
with these valuable and extensive tracts. 

The prosperity of our agriculture will be greatly 
promoted by the agricultural societies, recently 
established, and whose influence has been already 
shown. It is in a great degree owing to such soci- 
eties, that Great Britian has made such advances 
in agriculture within the last sixty years. The agri- 
cultural skill in many parts of that magnificent 
island, is fully equal, if not superior, to what is dis- 
played in Lombardy and Flanders, the finest culti- 
vated regions in Europe. These societies will be 
here, as they have been there, the patrons of various 
experiments : from the success of some of these, 
and even the failure of others, very essential im- 
provements will result. They rouse the attention 
of farmers, they collect and diffuse information, and 
they excite an emulation, that animates the whole 
agricultural interest. 

Their influence, undervalued by many, regarded 
with indifference by more, is fully appreciated by 
only a few. Yet they have already furnished in- 
dications of the benefits that will flow from them ; 
and the early and rapid improvement of our long 
neglected agriculture, has followed their establish- 
ment. Many persons mistake the object of them, 
by a very narrow view of their proceedings ; they 
can see no advantage in giving a prize for an ox or 
a wether, too fat to be eaten, or a cumbrous growth 



246 

on a single acre. Yet these are extremes, little 
more than curiosities in themselves, that show the 
limits of capability. But it is the instruction they 
afford, the emulation they create, that constitute 
their utility. By showing the extent of what can 
be done, they excite exertion every where. They 
make the farmer ashamed of being so far inferior 
to his successful neighbour ; they make him anxious 
to recede from the opposite extreme of poverty and 
meanness. If he finds that a man in the same 
county can raise sixty bushels, where he gets only 
ten, he resolves at least that he will have twenty. 
If he finds that one of his neighbours has reared an 
ox that weighs two thousand five hundred pounds, 
he will try to carry his from a thousand to twelve 
or fifteen hundred. The extraordinary efforts that 
obtain the prizes, serve to show what is possible, 
and place in strong contrast the disadvantage of bad 
breeds and imperfect tillage. Every feeling of pride 
and interest is stimulated to make improvements, 
and amelioration is every where diffused. 

The competition thus produced, is perhaps no 
where more remarkable, or more beneficial, than in 
the improvement it causes in all kinds of live stock. 
Poor cows, feeble oxen, sorry horses, lank lean hogs, 
coarse wooled, bad shaped sheep, consume as much 
food, and yield one-third or one quarter as much 
profit, as others of select improved breeds. A poor 
man, who keeps but a single cow, or a single pig, 
may partake of this improvement ; while, to the 
larger farmer, it is in itself sufficient to make all 



247 

ihe difference between a productive and unproduc- 
tive estate. Great attention has been ()aid in this 
department, by all the agricultural societies in Eng- 
land ; and there is no country that affords such 
striking and admirable proofs of what may be done 
by improving the breeds of animals. We are be- 
ginning to make a progress in this way ; several 
fine animals, from the most improved European 
stocks, have been imported ; and the profit of having 
the best kind of stock is getting to be universally 
understood. We were indeed far from being desti- 
tute of valuable stock, particularly in neat cattle 
and swine. The spirit of improvement leads to 
the selection of the finest among these, and to rais- 
ing only those which have the requisite qualities 
for being productive. Aided by the imported ani- 
mals, which come from the most perfect breeds in 
Europe, we may calculate, in a very few years, to 
exhibit generally, the finest kinds of live stock. 

It is the natural consequence of these societies to 
attract attention to agricultural pursuits ; this pro- 
duces as much advantage as their specific objects. 
It is not merely the local benefit that is produced 
by prizes, and cattle shows, by a superior piece of 
cultivation, or a better breed of animals ; but it is 
the increased interest, that is given to the occupa- 
tion of farming. This is particularly valuable 
among us, where agriculture had been so much 
neglected, both as a source of profit or employment. 
Commercial concerns, in all their branches, were 
the principal subjects of conversation ; they brought 



248 

men together, and became popular, not only from 
the expectation of greater gains, but because their 
interests were the chief objects of attention, and 
drew within their sphere all active minds. Agricul- 
ture was not upon a scale large enough to attract 
notice ; — it was almost wholly carried on by people 
with sn^ all means; for every man, as he obtained 
any property, embarked in trade or banking, and 
did not think of going beyond the simplest exer- 
tions in tillage. As there was no strong interest 
excited from the magnitude of the operations, so 
there was no pride to be gratified from successful 
experiment and superior management. An inferior 
station in any of the professions, a subaltern con- 
nexion with trade, raised higher expectations, and 
obtained a preference over the occupation of a far- 
mer. The effect of these societies does much to 
counteract and remedy this evil ; — in the first place, 
by showing that it is a science in which great skill 
may be discovered, and which will aiford constant 
occupation to the mind ; and where the products 
are so prodigiously varied according to the manage- 
ment, that if it only gives a bare subsistence in 
most cases, it may, in others, make a greater re- 
turn, than can be got on the average of ordinary 
times, from capital employed in trade. In the next 
place, it draws attention, it creates sympathy, it 
flatters the love of distinction, that is natural to all 
men ; which, when thus directed, is, to the public 
at large, as well as the individual, a salutary vanity. 
Men who are sufficiently favoured by circum- 



249 

stances to select their own course of employment, 
will be more apt to go into one, for which a fellow- 
feeling exists in the commmiity, — when the expec- 
tation of profit is in some degree ennobled by a 
generous competition, that engages not only the 
public sentiment, but promotes the public weal. 
When emulation is once turned to this kind of im- 
provement, its effects are so obvious, they are so 
pleasing, from the manner in which they adorn and 
display the country, that the pursuit is a constant 
source of satisfaction. The growth of trees, the 
giving a neat appearance to fields, the reclaiming a 
rough, savage spot, the making the wilderness to 
blossom, become at once the most alluring, and the 
most beneficent of all employments. 

A great advantage follows from having men of 
property scattered over the country, who take an 
interest in agricultural concerns. Such men are 
able to take the risk of doing things on a large scale, 
and if the true definition of economy, in this, as in 
every other case, be a wise expenditure, they set 
an example, which their neighbours can imitate on 
a smaller scale. Their experiments, if they are 
too costly to be immediately profitable, still furnish 
hints to others, who may take the substantial part 
of them, and avoid the expense of what is ostenta- 
tious. The influence of such men, in promoting 
refinement of manners, a wider range of intelli- 
gence, and larger views of policy, is of incalcula- 
ble importance to the moral and political interests 
of society. This is most strikingly shown in En- 

32 



250 

gland. The people who fill the higher ranks of the 
fashionable world, in that country, live in town 
only for a short season ; the rest of the year they 
are dispersed over every part of the island. Their 
example and their influence are to be found in 
every district. They contribute to elevate and 
enlighten the whole population of the countr}. 
The middling classes are prevented from nourish- 
ing boorish and coarse dispositions and pleasures, 
—from being mere Squire Westerns, — as was the 
case with many of the wealthy farmers, two or 
three generations back ; and they themselves are 
saved from the degradation of becoming profligate 
courtiers, or narrow-minded cits. On the Conti- 
nent, the contrary course was too prevalent ; it was 
the policy of the courts to prevent all the men who 
were powerful, from rank or property, from exer- 
cising a local influence in the provinces ; by making 
them the slaves and dependants of court influence, 
and intoxicating them with the pleasures of the 
capital. They retained them constantly near the 
sovereign, till they held a residence in the country 
as a painful exile, which, indeed, was used as a 
punishment. In a conversation, one day, with a 
distinguished individual, of high rank in the Rus- 
sian service, and who was familiar with every part 
of the European continent, — he attributed almost 
the whole strength and energy of the English 
nation, to the circumstance of the great proprietors 
residing so much in the country ; and the opposite 
state of things in this respect, in many other coun- 



251 

tries, he considered a radical vice and weakness in 
their system. 

To return from this digression : — the more we 
can find men of leisure and property devoting their 
attention to landed estates, and passing a part of 
the year in the country, enjoying its pleasures, dif- 
fusing intelligence and improvement in every dis- 
trict ; the more we shall find the solid prosperity, 
and, above all, the moral character of the people 
advanced. Let us hope, then, that every individu- 
al, who has made his fortune in the city, may have 
a taste to spend a portion of it in the country. No 
pursuit is more useful than tilling the earth; none 
nobler, none more pleasing. But this topic has 
been often embellished. Let me conclude with the 
well-known expressions of that illustrious Roman 
orator, who was too sound a patriot not to give 
some of his time to agriculture: — Omnium rerum 
quibus aliquid exquiritur, nihil est agri cultura 
melius, nihil uberius, nihil dulcius, nihil homine 
libero dignius. 



252 



LETTER X, 



MANUFACTURES. 



My dear Friend, 

The subject of manufactures has been fruitful of 
discussion in all its branches ; from the previous 
question of policy, down to the matter of fact one 
of practicability. There are some folks even who 
are still doubtful on the first point, though it seemed 
to be settled by the clear, elaborate report of Hamil- 
ton, when Secretary of th(^ Treasury ; but this must 
always be so ; if there are some men who advance 
too far beyond their cotemporaries to be of much 
use, like the twilight that precedes the splendour of 
day ; there are others who always lag behind the 
progress of society, like the twiMght that is soon 
extinguished in darkness. Some would deny all 
encouragement, even that of good-will and cheering 
approbation for successful efforts ; while others 
clamour for exclusive privileges, prohibitions, boun- 
ties, and a whole system of hot house forcing, that 
can never produce a vigorous growth. While these 
debates are going on, while patriotism and avarice 
are alternately appealed to with every argument that 
can affect either ; while some still deny that we can 
ever carry them on with advantage, and others assert 



263 

that we can never be independent without them.: 
manufacturers themselves, in spite of their foes, and 
in some cases of their friends, are every where 
selecting the most suitable locations, forming solid 
establishments, and furnishing the disputants them- 
selves with much of the clothing that protects them. 

There are several parts of the United States 
where certain branches of manufactures are perma- 
nently fixed, without including those household pro- 
ductions, which are made to a great extent in every 
state in the Union. It is my purpose only, in an- 
swer to your inquiries, to tell you what has been 
done in the eastern division ; to say something of 
the advantages it possesses for the prosecution of 
manufactures, and to remark upon some of the 
objections, that have been urged against them. In 
doing this, I do not intend to furnish you with 
details, to tell you the number of spindles or of trip- 
hammers that we have in motion. 1 have not the 
facts necessary for the purpose ; I am not making 
statistical tables, but attempting only a general out- 
line of our capabilities in this way. 

We have furnished many proofs of the liability of 
theorists to make false calculations, and how fre- 
quently a successful practice v\ ill run counter to the 
most plausible reasonings of theory. Associations 
to introduce any particular branch of manufacture 
rarely succeed ; numerous instances may be cited of 
their failures. Two, among others in Boston, may 
serve as examples of the rest. The first was an 
attempt to introduce the manufacture of linen ; 



254 

Irish spinners and weavers were to be employed ; u 
large, substantial building was erected ; but after all 
the expense, it languished for only a short period 
before its extinction. Another was a manufactory 
of sail-cloth. The reasoning here was excellent; 
it was said that we could produce the hemp which 
would assist our agriculture ; that the great quantity 
of shipping we employed in the fisheries, in the for- 
eign and coasting trade, would always secure a cer- 
tain demand ; that the fabric was of so coarse a 
description, that little skill would be required, and it 
might at once be brought to perfection. The duck 
was made, and the usual certificates were given, 
after a fair trial, that by virtue of the kind of oil 
which was used in the weaving, it was less liable to 
mildew, and, in short, that it was decidedly superior 
to the European sail-cloth. — Yet the manufactory 
soon fell through. — At this very time, though we 
could not carry on a manufacture of this coarse ma- 
terial, very considerable quantities of thread-lace 
were made in the county of Kssex ; and it continued 
to be woven, till the modern patent lace drove it out 
of the market.* So it was, contrary to obvious 
theory, that though we could not make cloth for the 
fisherman's sails, we did produce the lace-edging for 
his wife's cap. The manufactory of glass was intro- 
duced in the same way, and would probably have 
failed in turn, if the association had not been given 
up; and a few only of the proprietors joined with 
the principal workmen in carrying it on. 

* It is said that this manufacture of lace by hand is reviviug. 



2.55 

These associations, which, owing in part to the 
great facility of obtaining legislative acts of incorpo- 
ration, have been remarkably multiplied of late 
years, make a considerable display of introducing 
manufactures ; but it may be doubted, on the whole, 
whether they are productive of gain to the commu- 
nity. The stockholders commonly lose, but the 
people employed obtain their wages ; the farmer 
profits by getting a greater demand for his produce, 
and some knowledge of manufacturing is obtained 
by the workmen, which furnishes them another 
resource for a livelihood. Against these are to be 
placed the loss of the proprietors, and still more, the 
discouragement which is produced by unsuccessful 
attempts. 

It might be wise policy in legislatures, in passing 
acts of incorporation, to imitate the English princi- 
ple in regard to private banking ; where to ensure 
care and responsibility in the transaction of their 
affairs, but a limited number of persons, five or six, 
are allowed to associate together ; the consequence 
is, that each one puts in so much capital ; that it 
becomes the main object of his attention, and his 
ruin would follow his personal negligence, or mis- 
conduct. This principle may perhaps take place in 
our banking system, in the course of time ; but a 
modification of it might do good in our manufactur- 
ing establishments. The number of persons might 
be limited expressly, or eflfectively, by making the 
value of each share much greater than it now is. 
Manufactures are never exposed, when properly con- 



256 

ducted, to the wide chances of commerce ; they can 
never expect its extravagant gains, or its sudden los- 
ses. Their gain is moderate, but certain. The 
greatest attention to all the details, the closest econ- 
omy, the constant personal watchfulness of the pro- 
prietor, are necessary to their success. Now, in 
one of these numerous associations, where each pro- 
prietor holds only a few hundred dollars in the 
stock, and where the managers derive their emolu- 
ment chiefly from the wages for superintendence ; 
it is almost impossible that the establishment should 
be carried on profitably, except during some period 
of temporary interruption in foreign competition. 
The state at large should interpose its guardianship 
for the community, in cases where the motive is not 
sufficiently strong, to expect a prudent watchfulness 
from the individual. A sudden excitement may pro- 
duce a mania in the public mind for any particular 
pursuit, — an act of incorporation is asked for, and 
obtained of course, — each individual adventures 
only a moderate sum, and considering it a kind of 
lottery, feels little solicitude about the event; but 
the aggregate of property involved is very impor- 
tant, and the loss is a serious injury to the state. 
The government might then exercise a kind of ne- 
gative prohibition, and by requiring a larger stake 
from the adventurers, secure them and the public, 
against a rash undertaking or improvident manage- 
ment. 

The truth of some of these remarks is very 
strongly supported by the cotton manufactory at 



257 

Waltham, near Boston; one of the largest and best 
managed in the United States. This was begun at 
a period when manufactures were depressed, and 
many of the establishments were discontinued. One 
in the immediate vicinity, of considerable extent, 
had ceased working. Under these discouraging 
appearances, this manufactory was set on foot by 
five or six gentlemen, who had a sufficient capital to 
meet the delays attendant upon an incipient estab- 
lishment, and in both their purchases and sales, to take 
advantage of the market. They had a large stake 
in the undertaking, and every thing was done with 
precaution and solidity. They first secured a water 
power, which gave them an ample, certain supply at 
all seasons. They then erected large substantial 
build ngs. Having procured the best mechanics, 
they began by degrees to put up their machinery, 
making it certain, by experiment, that they were of 
the best and most improved kind. Their machinery 
is, consequently, superior to any other in the United 
States, and is not surpassed by the most perfect in 
England. They now consume about 400,000 
pounds of cotton annually, and keep nearly 200 
looms, moved by water, in constant operation.* 
This manufactory is a very interesting one, because 
it proves decisively, that, with sufficient capital and 
proper management, the manufacture of cotton may 
be carried on with advantage. 

• Additional bnildiuga and machinery have been since erected, that have 
nearlv doubled its extent. 

33 



258 

The cotton manufactories are numerous ; they are 
scattered over every part of these states — many of them 
small, with only four or five hundred spindles, and 
from that number up to ten or fifteen thousand ; these 
are, in almost every instance, the property of incor- 
porated companies ; most of them were hastily 
erected, and their machinery is not very good. The 
aggregate of their produce is very considerable, 
though very few of them continue in full steady 
operation. Their capital is commonly too limited, 
to enable them to transact their business advantage- 
ously. They are often obliged to make forced 
sales of their goods, and a rise in the price of the 
raw material consumes all their profits, and forces 
them to suspend their work ; of course, they cannot 
be expected to make any great improvement, while 
liable to such interruptions. Still, this branch of 
manufactures for the production of coarse kinds of 
goods, may be considered as permanently established 
here. 

The manufactures of iron, both wrought and cast, 
are largely extended in this quarter. Some iron is 
made from the ore, but by far the largest quantity 
consumed, is imported from Russia, Sweden, and 
England. The chief articles of cast iron, are made 
here to the exclusion of foreign ones. Many of 
the coarser articles of wrought iron are also made . 
in large quantities, such as nails, shovels, edge tools, 
&c. We have, by necessity, been obliged to manu- 
facture machinery, since it was not allowed to be 
exported from England. We have many excellent 



259 

workmen in this line, and the most delicate and 
difficult machinery is made in perfection, from a 
stocking loom, or a card machine, up to a steam 
engine ; of these last we have two or three manu- 
factories ; and these invaluable machines are now 
getting more and more into use. 

The manufactures of leather are all extensively 
established, and many of them brought to a high 
degree of perfection. In the preparation of skins, 
we have not yet produced the finest kinds of Mo- 
rocco or Russia leather, but we are daily making a 
progress towards doing so. In some of the manu- 
factures of which leather is the principal material, 
our produce for a long period has been very consid- 
erable ; others have been more recently introduced, 
but all of them may vie with any foreign produc- 
tions. Boots, shoes, trunks, saddlery, and book- 
binding, furnish a large amount in our exports to the 
rest of the Union. Every article of any importance 
made from skins, except gloves, may be considered 
as one of our permanent manufactures. To these 
may be added hats, both from wool and fur, of 
which large quantities are made, though we still 
import many of the finer description from Europe. 

Our woollen manufactures may yet be considered 
in their infancy, though their produce is very consid- 
erable. Of the coarser kind of woollens, a wevy con- 
siderable proportion of what is worn in the country, 
is home made. The quantity has been increased 
by the saving of labour, from the establishment of 
carding machines, which are every where to be 



260 

found. Several respectable manufactories, for tiie 
production of the finer kinds of cloths and cassi- 
meres, have been got up within a few years ; and 
some of the specimens they have shown will bear a 
comparison with almost any productions of the 
European looms. These manufactories are gradu- 
ally increasing, and we may look forward to no very 
distant period, M'hen they will more than supply our 
own wants. Their success is connected with the 
improvement of our breeds of sheep ; this has com- 
menced with the introduction of the Spanish breeds : 
but there are some other races that are greatly want- 
ed, and which will no doubt be had, ere long, in 
spite of foreign prohibition. 

Besides these principal branches of manufactures, 
there are many others in extensive operation. 
Among these, glass may be cited, as having been 
so early brought to rival the most beautiful articles 
of English ware. There are glass manufactories 
in different places ; those in Boston are the principal 
ones ; the finest and most difficult kinds of cut glass 
can now be procured at them. Manufactures of 
all kinds of cabinet work, of musical instruments, 
of tin-ware, &c. &c. are to be found in different 
places, some of these in every village. There 
is no considerable branch of manufactures which 
has not some establishment here, excepting silk. 
The climate is favourable to the mulberry-tree, and 
no doubt silk will be produced hereafter. Samples 
indeed have been shown in different places ; but 
they are as yet too inconsiderable to be numbered 
among our fabrics. 



261 

It seems, then, that there can be no doubt of the 
practicability of our becoming manufacturers, and 
the expediency is I presume growing daily more 
evident. With the fullest belief, however, of the 
utility and necessity of manufactures, I am not 
anxious for the growth of large manufacturing 
towns, and the kind of population that exists in 
them in Europe ; though it will naturally come in 
the course of things, no wise or benevolent man 
would wish to advance it. Our manufacturing 
population is now blended with that of agriculture ; 
the labourers in the former are drawn from the lat- 
ter, and frequently return to it for a time. This 
preserves their health and energy ; in this way we 
may go on to a great increase of manufactures, till we 
are able to supply as much as we consume, though 
we may always find it convenient to import some 
articles. But to have large manufacturing cities, 
swarming with labourers, who are mere spinning 
mules m\d jennies, — who are reduced by competi- 
tion to the minimum of subsistence, and even this 
rendered precarious by the change of fashion or 
foreign prohibition ; — such a state of things I do not 
wish to see existing, while there is any land left to 
give our population the means of subsistence. In- 
deed, there is no fear that it will happen for many 
generations to come. 

Let me point out to your notice, one or two of 
the advantages we possess, for the establishment of 
manufactures. Those abroad who fear our com- 
petition, have commonly solaced themselves with the 



262 

belief, that we never could carry on manufactures 
extensively, because labour was too high ; the same 
idea has been held up here, by those who have con- 
sidered the question superficially, or with adverse 
prejudices. Now, it is remarkable, that in all those 
numerous branches of manufactures, in which fo- 
reign productions have been altogether superseded, 
except in a few cases of luxury or fashionable caprice 
— it is labour, and labour of the dearest kind, that is 
almost exclusively employed. For instance, boots, 
shoes, hats, saddlery, &c. &c. ; — in these and many 
other articles, machinery cannot be used, and the 
work is almost wholly performed by men. — It is not 
the price of labour, but the want of capital, that 
prevents our success. We manufacture for our- 
selves much the greater part of what we consume, 
excepting those fabrics which are principally made 
by machinery. The labour of men is dearer than 
it is in England, but the labour of women and chil- 
dren bears nearly the same price in both countries ; 
and in the great manufactories of cotton, and many 
others, the number of men who are employed is 
comparatively small. Whenever persons of capi- 
tal shall choose to employ it in manufactures, and 
give their personal attention to their concerns, it 
will be found that the price of labour will be no 
impediment. 

There is also a preference given by our people to 
employment in a manufactory, over domestic ser- 
vice, which grows out of their character and habits. 
This is not the case in Europe ; — it gives a consi- 



263 

derable facility to the establishments of manufac- 
tures, and will continue so long as they are well 
managed. The labour is not so perpetual, as to 
prevent children from receiving instruction ; and 
being conducted with order and decency, the daugh- 
ters of respectable farmers often pass three or four 
years in them, where they accumulate a little sum 
from their wages, and avoid, what they consider a 
degradation, becoming household servants. A well 
regulated manufactory, situated in the country, may 
be made subservient to the promotion of good prin- 
ciples and good habits in those employed in it : 
while in large towns, and with a straining competi- 
tion incessantly exerted, the labour is too continu- 
ous to admit of any instruction or any relaxation- 
Health and morals are both disregarded, and too 
frequently destroyed altogether. 

The want of coal will prevent our making use 
of steam engines of large dimensions, until it shall 
be discovered, which it probably will be at no re- 
mote period, between the Connecticut and the Hud- 
son, if not in other parts of this district. In the 
mean time we have innumerable mill-seats, whose 
water power is perpetual. They are of course 
generally scattered, and will not admit of many 
establishments in one spot ; but there are excep- 
tions in some falls of water, which furnish an almost 
unlimited power. These waterfalls are one of the 
remarkable features of the Atlantic states generally, 
but particularly so of the eastern division. They 
furnish an invaluable facility to manufactures, which 



264 

is some compensation for the evil they cause in the 
interruption of navigation. Some of the most con- 
siderable of these mill-seats are directly upon the 
tide water, so that they have all the advantages of 
being contiguous to navigation. 

A great facility of communication, from good 
roads or navigable rivers, is an important benefit to 
our manufactures. They are no where at any great 
distance from a market, either for local consump- 
tion or for exportation. The extensive and hourly 
increasing market that is afforded within the limits 
of the United States, where no duty or restriction 
can be laid upon them, is an advantage, a very pow- 
erful one, which they partake in common with the 
rest of the Union. The raw material of the most 
important production is obtained, within the United 
States ; — the materials of others, wool, iron, flax, 
&.C. are produced in considerable quantities, and 
may hereafter be made adequate to a full supply. 

The present produce of our manufactures, is of 
the most useful kind, and the best calculated for se- 
curing them a preference with the consumer. They 
are principally the coarse kinds of goods, and are 
much more substantial than European or India mer- 
chandise of the same prices. They have, there- 
fore, obtained a character in this respect, which 
makes them always in demand. The public gain too, 
in a general way, since these domestic productions 
are so much more durable. This substantial quality 
they can, in most articles, always maintain ; — in cot- 
ton stuffs, for instance, since the raw material comes 



265 



to them so much cheaper, that in those cloths where 
the quantity of material employed forms a great part 
of the price, the foreign manufacturer, who is obliged 
to purchase it at a much higher rate, must make his 
fabrics slighter, and thus very inferior in quality ; — 
trying to obtain a sale by a superior finish and ap- 
pearance. Our fabrics commence with acquiring a 
reputation for durability ; they will gradually add 
that of variety and elegance. 

There are no people more ingenious in the use 
and invention of machinery, no country more pro- 
lific in patents, than the one under consideration. 
Good mechanics are to found in every one of the 
mechanic arts, and the improvements they have 
made in some old, and the invention of many new 
instruments, are strong proofs of their skill and en- 
terprise. These are not shown merely in the common 
tools in use in various trades, but in the most com- 
plicated and useful machines. Such, for instance, 
are the card and nail machines, which are so exten- 
sively used in the United States. These are entirely 
of their own invention. They have also improved the 
machines used in Europe, in the process of spinning 
and weaving ; — though the machinery was consid- 
ered almost perfect there, they have made many 
ameliorations. In this department, also, we have 
an advantage over the European manufacturer ; — - 
no resistance is made here to the introduction of 
any machinery ; every kind of labour-saving ma- 
chine is eagerly sought after, and new ones are 
constantly coming into use. In Europe, the manu- 
34 



266 

facturer is often limited in this respect ; he is often 
afraid to make use of machinery that would be of 
essential service to him. Machinery that is used in 
one county, sometimes cannot be brought into an- 
other, without producing a riot among the workmen. 
Within a few years the most serious mischief, alarm- 
ing and long continued disturbances, have arisen 
from this source. Our manufacturers have no fears 
of this kind to encounter. 

With these advantages, to which may be added 
a healthy climate, a numerous, active, free popula- 
tion, we are certainly capable of becoming an im- 
portant manufacturing district. Nothing is wanting 
but capital, largely engaged, and personally attend- 
ed to, for the immediate extension of manufactures. 
I have no doubt that this will all happen in due 
time : no one can wish to see it forced prematurely, 
who is governed by sound and enlightened views. 
Individual enterprise is less thwarted in this coun- 
try than in any other, by the interference of govern- 
ment, either in the shape of prohibition or bounties. 
An intelligent, industrious people are left to pursue 
what they find most advantageous ; and the aggre- 
gate of individual, forms the noble mass of national 
prosperity, that we enjoy. 



267 



LETTER XI. 



REMARKS ON CERTAIN POINTS OF ADMINISTRATION 
IN DIFFERENT STATES. 

You know, my clear Sir, that in regard to a late 
Envoy from a foreign court, it was cited, as a con- 
vincing proof of the amiable, not to say skilful, 
policy of this gentleman and his wife, soon after 
their arrival, that they were resolved to be popular ; 
— they were pleased with every thing, " even the 
road from Baltimore to Washington.'''' I am happy 
to acknowledge that a " bad eminence" is taken 
from the road in question ; but 1 believe it still 
remains with some others in its vicinity. Now, it 
was, you know, after a winter's excursion over these 
perilous roads, which are most powerfully described 
in Milton's narration of Satan's passage through cha- 
os, and which makes a journey over them more dan- 
gerous and painful, than a voyage across the Atlan- 
tic ; that " all smarting with my wounds," I dis- 
covered some petulance at the injustice with which 
we in the east were treated ; and the total disre- 
gard or oblivion of the peculiar burdens, to which 
we subjected ourselves for the common advantage. 
I promised you, when my irritation had subsided 
and my bruises were gone, that 1 would make some 



268 

remarks on our relative contribution to the public 
good ; without intending to make invidious com- 
parisons, or to vaunt our own merits, which, are 
owing to those wise views that were designated by 
our ancestors in their earliest regulations. 

This subject involves a consideration of the pro- 
cess for the management of puf)Iic affairs, in the 
Eastern states, and will show how this differs from 
the mode of administration, in otiier parts of the 
Union. I have no intention of going into the whole 
of this ; it would require an epistle of tedious 
minuteness. The plans of the different common- 
wealths in our national system, are governed by the 
same general laws, and gravitate to the same cen- 
tre ; and though there is almost as much difference 
in the size of these bodies, as there is in the planets 
of our system, yet they all revolv^e in symmetry 
and harmony. There is some difference in their 
mode of action, though there is a great similarity in 
the result. 

The states of New- York, Pennsylvania, Vir- 
ginia, and some others, have raised large funds and 
carried on extensive schemes of internal improve- 
ment; which prove their administrations to be 
directed by a far-sighted, enlightened policy, the 
advantages of which will be more and more devel- 
oped. There is an air of grandeur in these extensive 
plans of utility, that does honour to the states that 
adopt them ; and many great objects of general 
advantage are thus attained, that would never be 
undertaken by individuals. It must be borne in 



269 

mind, however, that almost all improvements in these 
states are made from the state funds, or bj chartered 
companies, who receive a toll in remuneration : 
and though great objects are effected by clearing 
rivers of obstructions, by making roads and canals, 
yet these do not come in every man's way, and the 
traveller is much oftener impeded there, than in 
this section, where he finds good roads in every 
direction. 

Some explanation of this sort is necessary, to 
prevent the eastern states from being considered in- 
ferior in public spirit, or liberal policy, to their 
neighbours. It will be found, on examination, that 
the taxes annually raised in these states, for three 
objects, education, roads, and militia — in which the 
whole nation have an indirect concern, that each 
state should do its duty — are more in proportion, 
than are paid in any other state in the Union. It 
is precisely on these subjects that we may claim 
the praise for our citizens at large, of being directed 
by enlightened, public-spirited feelings. The man- 
ner in which this is done precludes any ostentatious 
reports, but the real purposes of such expenses are 
very well answered. The militia is an organized 
system, of which some display is made, because it 
is connected with the government, as the governor 
is commander in chief — but the affairs of schools 
and roads are not managed by the state administra- 
tion. They depend on each separate town, which 
levies and appropriates, at its own discretion, the 
sums raised within itself. There is one exception 



270 

only to this ; in Connecticut there is a school fund, 
from which each town receives a certain income 
annually to pay for its schools ; by which means 
the inhabitants are exempt from all expense on this 
account, though every child in the state has the 
opportunity of common school education. 

The laws require that every town should support 
schools, and also keep in good repair the roads 
within its limits ; and for failure in either of these 
duties, the legal remedies are of course provided. 
These roads are constantly improving, and, except 
in very new districts, may be generally considered 
very good. Besides these public roads, there are 
turnpikes in every direction ; over these the United 
States carry their mail, and transport military stores, 
and thus derive a direct advantage from them ; and 
a citizen of another state derives the same facility 
as the inhabitants. The people of Maryland are as 
able to pay for the expense of good roads as the 
people of Connecticut ; yet in the former state they 
are almost impassable, and in the latter are every 
where in good condition. One state has then a 
right to claim some merit, for the service it renders 
to the public in this way, and which is grossly 
neglected by another. 

I have no data to form an accurate estimate of 
the sums annually raised for this purpose. There 
is no provision for making any official returns, and 
I have never seen any statistical account of them ; 
though, they are so important in the political 
economy of the state, that an annual statement of 



271 

them ought to be made to the legislature. Every 
town agrees, by an annual vote, to lay out a sum 
upon the highways ; this is afterwards assessed 
upon the inhabitants, and expended under the direc- 
tion of surveyors, chosen for the purpose. A good 
deal depends on the judgment and fidelity of these 
surveyors, in seeing that the work is not slighted. 
The tax is expected to be paid by labour, and is 
almost always discharged in this way ; — but if in- 
convenient to the individual, he may pay it in 
money. 1 believe I am within bounds in estimat- 
ing the highway taxes, annually raised in the eas- 
tern states, at 200,000 dollars.* Besides this annual 
expenditure, more than two millions of dollars have 
been employed, within a few years, by incorporated 
companies, in constructing bridges and roads. The 
former are generally a lucrative stock ; but of the 
latter, there are very few that pay simple interest 
for the capital. These roads, however, were, in 
many instances, subscribed to by the greater part of 
the stockholders, rather with a view to public im- 
provement, than from any sanguine expectations of 
income from the stock. Another million of dollars 
may be placed to the item of canals, which, though 
in almost all cases an improving property, give at 
present but a small per centage on the stock. 

In the department of education there is also an 
annual tax, voted by each town, for their public 
schools. This is apportioned, if the township is 

* I have been told by some persons that in their opinioo this item might h* 
trebled at least. 



272 

extensive, according to the number of children in 
each school district, so that it often happens that a 
section richer in children than in property, draws a 
greater amount from the treasury than they pay in 
taxes ; the rich thus contribute for the education 
of the poor. It sometimes happens, where the 
population is scattered, that some of the children 
have to go one or two miles to school ; and travers- 
ing this distance through the snow, in some of our 
winter mornings, makes them hardy, at least, if 
thev do not become learned. All the children go 
to school at least a part of the year. The value of 
common education is extensively felt, and great ex- 
ertions are made to obtain it. In passing through 
a woody district, not long since, where there were 
very few inhabitants ; the stage driver, in pointing 
to two solitary, mean looking dwellings, told me, 
that in the winter before, the two families which 
inhabited them, being four or five miles from any 
school, had hired a schoolmaster to reside with 
them two months; and that they furnished him 
seventeen scholars between them, and of different 
colours too, for one of these families was black. I 
should say, (or to make, in this case, a legitimate 
use of a favourite term, 1 should guess,) that the 
sum expended for this purpose, raised by volun- 
tary, annual taxation, amounted to 300,000 dollars.* 

• In this item, as in tliat of roads, I have- been told since the first edition of 
this work, that a very large addition might be made to it. But having no means 
of ascertaining the amount accurately,! do not alter it ; as my principal pur- 
pose was to shew the principle, not the precise sum expended, whicii iu all tiiese 
estimates I have greatly underrated. 



i 



273 

Besides tliis, there is an expenditure in a great 
number of private schools, academies, colleges, &;c. 
which would more than double the amount. 

In the department of the militia, all the service 
is performed that is required bj law ; and I pre- 
sume there is no state in the Union, which can com- 
pare with any one of the eastern states, in their ful- 
filment of militia duties. On this point I will take 
the state of Massachusetts for some particulars, 
which will enable you to form an opinion ; and I 
believe that the other states in this political division 
are nearly, or quite as effective. The militia in 
this state exceeds 80,000 men ; — these are regularly 
organized in companies, battalions, brigades, and 
divisions. The staff is all complete. The state 
gives no pay, except to a quartermaster, and adju- 
tant-generals and their clerks, who, having per- 
manent duties to perform, have regular salaries 
and a small allowance to certain staff officers 
for the transmission of orders, &c. It also pays 
for the expenses of courts martial, for powder 
to the artillery, and furnishes instruments of mili- 
tary music, and all the materiel of the artillery, 
except side-arms. There are ninety pieces of brass 
field artillery, in the charge of the different com- 
panies. The whole body is trained at least four 
days in the year : three times by companies, and 
once by regiments, or brigades. The officers, of 
all ranks, are in complete uniform, — so also arc the 
artillery, cavalry, riflemen, and most of the light 
infantry companies. The whole are completely 
armed, and every man between eighteen and forty. 
oil 



274 

except magistrates, clergymen, physicians, and mem- 
bers of the legislature, is held to perform this ser- 
vice, — and all fines, for any failure, are rigidly ex- 
acted. The expenses of this branch, including the 
service of the privates, uniform of officers, and vol- 
imteer companies, and the sums paid out of the 
state treasury, I think cannot be estimated at less 
than half a million of dollars annually ; and suppos- 
ing the others to pay only as much more, the militia 
costs the eastern states one million of dollars yearly.* 
Thus, from these three sources, it will be seen 
that a very constant and considerable contribution 
is made to the public weal ; and for performing our 
duty effectually, in this way, as we not only 
act for ourselves, but contribute to the national 
strength and character, we ask for some considera- 
tion from other states, and especially from those 
who, by neglecting these duties, exonerate them- 
selves from their burdens. I think they are un- 
wise in doing so, and that they are, eventually, the 
sufferers. No man would wish to diminish these 
contributions, or to enlarge them much ; the latter 
could not be done without making them oppressive. 
As it is, it may be stated in the way of generalizing, 
that, for the support of the militia, highways, and 
common school education, every able-bodied man 
contributes ten days of annual labour : — this 
proves a degree of public spirit that is highly hon- 
ourable to the citizens. 

* If the utility of tl)e militia, in war time, against a foreign foe, were only con- 
sidered, this expense might be thoiiglit excessive ; but the real object of a mili- 
tia is 'Jomeslic ; it is to prevent the small regular army which we cannot (]f> 
(vithout, fiom becoming too large, and destructive to our freedom. 



275 

It will be observed, that the greater part of these 
contribalions are voluntarily imposed from year 
to year ; and that the power of laying these taxes, 
is not delegated to the state, but is reserved to each 
town, which raises the money, and appropriates it 
at its own discretion. This is doubtless effected in 
a way more convenient to the inhabitants, than if 
it were a subject of general administration. In- 
deed, it is highly characteristic of the deep-laid 
republican feeling, which is the foundation of all 
our institutions. Every thing is delegated, — but 
nothing is delegated further, or longer, than is abso- 
lutely necessary. The government is intrusted 
with no jurisdiction, and no finances, except for 
such general purposes as cannot well be avoided. 
This keeps up a general attention to public con- 
cerns, — a habit, in a limited way, of providing for 
the public service ; and, consequently, a considera- 
ble degree of public feeling and watchfulness. The 
general convenience is, no doubt, better served, 
though it narrows the operations of administration. 
The people are in the habit of taxing themselves 
for the public good, and they do it more willingly, 
when they have the immediate control and distribu- 
tion of the money, which they probably dispose of 
more advantageously and economically, than it 
would be expended if placed in distant hands. 

Still, it must not be concealed, that this system 
has some disadvantages, and that the views of ad- 
ministration in the eastern states are, in comparison 
with some others, as diminutive, as their system of 
finance. The state of New-York has undertaken 



276 

a caiinl, which would liave been consKleiecl a mag- 
nificent enterprise, by the proudest monarchy in 
Europe. Pennsylvania has laid out great sums iu 
roads and canals. Virginia is proceeding in a sys- 
tematic course of public improvement, worthy of 
an enlightened and powerful state. Others are 
following these examples, and will reap the benefit 
of tiiem. In those states, large funds have been 
wisely accumulated for the general purposes of 
public improvement ; and where this was wanting, 
bold and sagacious statesmen have laid taxes to effect 
the purpose, and made even taxation popular, when it 
was for such objects. In this section, the citizens 
have done their duty within their own limits ; but 
no wide scope of policy has ever been shown by 
the governments. Not one of these states, in a 
career of unexampled prosperity for a whole genera- 
tion, has done any thing to accumulate funds for 
public improvement, with the exception of the state 
of Connecticut. The exception is, indeed, a noble 
one ; — she has accumulated a fund that now pays 
for all the schools in tlie state. Massachusetts had 
great means in her power, but they have been 
chiefly frittered away, though enough still remains 
to do something, which shall be of permanent ad- 
vantage to the commonwealth. The other states 
had no lands that were public property ; — but a 
small per centage on the taxation, annually set apart, 
would have accumulated a fund for the next genera- 
tion, with no inconvenience to the present. 

But there is nothing in the character of our state 
administrations, that can lead to the adoption of such 



277 

a policy. The governors are commonly selected 
at a })eriod of life, when they are not expected to 
originate any thing new. The salaries attached to 
state offices, are not sufficient to command the ser- 
vices of very active talents ; and the influential 
members of the legislature too often derive their 
influence from being the opponents of any more 
extensive systems. Men who advocate wider views, 
are looked upon with wonder or suspicion, and are 
sure to become unpopular ; — they, therefore, must 
either sacrifice these views, or, by pursuing them, 
lose the station that would be necessary to carry 
them into execution. Cunning men, in the mean 
time, prosper ; — they serve the purposes of a subal- 
tern ambition, by an eternal " booing''^ to narrow 
minds, and narrow prejudices ; — every thing con- 
tinues the same, in " this best of all possible worlds ;" 
they keep the management of affairs within their 
own comprehension, and nothing is impaired, but 
the honour and prosperity of the state. 

It is not necessary to raise very large sums, or to 
endeavour to fill the treasury for indefinite purposes. 
There should be no funds accumulated, except for 
appropriation to some specific object. It would be 
dangerous to leave funds to any amount, without 
having them so pledged. The violence of party 
would be nourished by the hope of managing such 
funds, and would be apt rashly to appropriate them 
in a way to serve its purposes. We have seen 
instances, where funds lying in the treasury, have 
been absurdly squandered by party violence ; when, 
at the same time, it would never have dared to raise 



278 

the same sums by taxation, as that would have 
thsown it out of power. But funds may be raised 
for education, for the construction of roads, bridges, 
and canals, and other specific purposes, — and the 
most positive enactments should guard against their 
being applied to any other objects. 

There are, doubtless, many advantages arising 
from our thorough republican habit, of leaving the 
care of many interior concerns and local expendi- 
tures to be prov ided for, by the citizens in their local 
districts. But, at the same time, there are many 
objects that can be effected only by the state govern- 
ments, and the operation of an enlarged policy. 
Such are the protection of the higher branches of 
education in our Universities ; the encouragement 
of agriculture and the arts, — and the construction 
of public edifices, roads, and canals. There are 
some objects of this description that demand, impe- 
riously, the patronage of the state, and which would 
be productive of extensive public advantage. The 
expense and the uncertainty of adequate returns, 
make it impossible for private associations, founded 
on a view of profit, to undertake them. It is such 
objects which call loudly for a change of our policy, 
so far as to prepare for their future accomplishment, 
by funds, under the control of the state. A revisal 
of our financial sjstem would procure these means, 
without any perceptible burden on the community ; 
and by furnishing to these states the future power of 
performing great public works, add to the dignity 
of their governments, and promote the prosperity 
of their citizens. 



I 



279 



LETTER XII. 

ON THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE STATE OF THF 
INDIANS. 

My DEAR Friend, 

The little Indian story you mentioned to me, has 
turned my attention to the subject of the original 
Americans, to whom the events of the day have 
given a momentary accession of interest. There 
are few things connected with our history, that have 
occasioned more declamation, or more opposite state- 
ments. After a long and intimate knowledge of 
them, some have described the Indians as possessed 
of every virtue ; while others degrade them below 
the rank of humanity, as destitute of every good 
quality, and practising all the vices, that can come 
under the heads of dishonesty, perfidy, and ferocity. 
One swears that the object before him is black ; the 
other maintains that it is white ; while the bystander, 
who knows that the two sides of the shield are of 
different colours, will perceive that both are right, 
from the position in which they have viewed it. In 
the mean time, the unfortunate race which is the 
subject of dispute, is mouldering away, and at no 
remote period will have no existence but in history. 



280 

There is soinetliiiig very saddening in tlie reflec- 
tion, that the original possessors of this magnificent 
country, whom we acknowledged for the lords of 
the soil, when we bought their birthright for a mess 
of pottage, should be inevitably destined to destruc- 
tion. It seems cruel, that we should not give them 
the benefits of civilization, and share Avith them, at 
least, the land that was once exclusively their own. 
Theoretical philanthropists have cried out against us, 
and practical ones have vainly endeavoured to avert 
the fate which seems marked out for the Indians. 
Nation after nation disappears, and, in a few years, 
the last remnants of these numerous tribes will be 
driven, with the buffalo and the deer, to the recesses 
of the Rocky Mountains. Once in a while a master 
spirit among them attempts, with vain struggles, to 
resist the destruction that is impending. In the 
truest spirit of patriotism he rouses his countrymen, 
but only leads them to their ruin ; after scalj)ing a 
few men, murdering a few women, and dashing 
out the brains of their children. Though he may 
be a good warriour, he proves but a false prophet in 
his predictions of success - he is either cut down, 
like the prophet Tecumseh, or hung, like the prophet 
Francis, and the ruin of his tribe is consummated. 

It is remarkable, how few of the natives are to be 
found in our population, and how rarely they blend 
with it. The discoloiuings from Indian, are infi- 
nitely fewer than those arising from Negro mixture. 
The few that remain are not so numerous as the 
Gipsies in many parts of Europe, to whom they may 



281 

jn many points be compared. Two or three, or 
sometimes a larger groupe, perambulate the country, 
offering medicinal herbs, baskets or brooms for sale, 
almost the only articles they manufacture. They 
are a harmless set of beings, and lead a life of hard- 
ship, though not of labour. I have sometimes 
thought, when I have seen some of these poor 
Indians, on the revolving turns of fate ; that here 
were the descendants perhaps of the Sachems, who 
once held the country, and made treaties with our 
ancestors when they might have annihilated them, 
gaining a scanty livelihood from the charitable pur- 
chases of their posterity. They preserve most of the 
traitsof the Indian character, though imbedded in ci- 
vilization, and knowing no other language than the 
English. They are seldom seen to laugh, are prone 
to intoxication, yet obliged, from poverty, to have 
intervals of sobriety ; and in traversing the country, 
while they commonly make use of our roads, they 
retain a knowledge of its natural topography ; and 
are never afraid of being lost in a forest, as they 
always know their direction, and often traverse the 
country, as was the primitive practice, from one 
stream to another, at the shortest carrying place; 
and still are acquainted with all the rivers and ponds, 
and the most probable places for finding game. 

If then, so many tribes and nations have disap- 
peared, leaving no other than these miserable vesti- 
ges, so that they and their language have become 
extinct ; if within the wide limits of the old United 
States, there hardly exist Indians enough to form 

36 



282 

one populous village, could this destruction have 
been prevented by the whites ? — Has civilized man 
made use of his superiority over the savage, only to 
despoil him ? Is the existence of a barbarous and 
civilized nation, in the same country compatible ? 
Is the red man of the American forests a species of 
the human genus susceptible of civilization ? It 
may be of some assistance, in answering these ques- 
tions, to consider what has been done towards civi- 
lizing the Indians ; — I cannot go into the inquiry at 
large, but will only give you a sketch of what has 
been attempted in the state of Massachusetts, — this 
is not much, yet is probably more than has been 
done by any other. 

The first founders, either through fear, or some 
better motive, appeared to wish to deal peace- 
ably and honestly with the natives. Though 
they came here with the European prejudices, and 
were in the habit of hearing the Pope and other 
sovereigns, claim the property of the coiuitry, with- 
out any consideration for the natives who were in 
possession, yet they bought the land they occupied, 
and generally maintained their treaties with them. 
They would have followed a liberal course of poli- 
cy, if it had not been for their peculiar religious fa- 
naticism. Our forefathers were constantly likening 
themselves to the Israelites, one of the most cruel 
of nations, as shown in their own annals : like 
them, they were invading a country that did not be- 
long to them, whose inhabitants they considered 
heathen, and therefore deserving of destruction. 



283 

The hardships of their situation made them harsh 
in their sentiments, and the sternest denunciations 
of the Old Testament were the passages most fre- 
quently in their mouths. The Indians were hea- 
then, and on this account a feeling of scorn was 
engendered, that prevented any general sympathy 
for their condition. Humanity, however, was still 
felt in many upright, benevolent minds ; and reli- 
gion too guided some individuals to pursue the be- 
neficent lessons of the New, rather than the extermi- 
nating injunctions of the Old Testament, in their 
treatment of the natives. Some good men were 
constantly endeavouring to ameliorate their condi- 
tion ; among whom the venerable Eliot is most con- 
spicuous. His zeal, learning, and industry enabled 
him to form a grammar of their languages, and to 
translate the Bible into it. He has been sometimes 
called the Indian Apostle ; and his primitive sim- 
plicity, devotedness, and entire disinterestedness, 
gave him claims to the appellation. 

If, however, there was any chance from the exer- 
tions of such missionaries as tlliot, or such benevo- 
lent characters in civil life as Roger Williams, and 
some others, it was destroyed by the wars that were 
afterwards excited. The premature destruction of 
the Indians was chiefly brought about by the rival- 
ries of foreign nations ; who made use of them, in 
the most profligate and remorseless manner, to pro- 
mote their own ambitious designs. The rivalries 
of the French and English occasioned the destruc- 
tion of whole tribes, in the early ages of the colo- 



284 



nies ; as the same y)olicy pursued by the latter of 
those nations, in their former and recent war with 
us, again produced the same effect. The most san- 
guinary wars in which the Eastern Indians were 
engaged with the whites, were excited by the 
French in Canada. The forests which are impervi- 
ous to the advance of a regular army, are the ap- 
propriate scene of operation for Indian warriors, — 
and a communication between remote points is 
readily maintained by them. The Six Nations 
were the dogs of war, whom the English let slip 
upon the French at every opportunity ; while tlie 
latter more than once stirred up all the tribes be- 
tween the Penobscot and the Hudson, to carry on 
the most harrassing hostilities against our settle- 
ments. The practices of Indian warfare are such, 
as to rouse all the feelings of hatred and ven- 
geance, and the strongest detestation against their 
authors. All considerations of justice or magna- 
nimity are lost sight of by those, who have seen 
their women and children massacred ; and though 
the war may not have been unprovoked, the man- 
ner in which it is carried on, stifles all the feelings 
of humanity, and the savages, if injured in the 
first instance, are from the mode they take of 
revenging it, doomed without remorse to extermi- 
nation. 

The mode of civilization pursued formerly, was 
not so well understood as it has been since : the 
process was very imperfect. They began with the 
wrong end, and insisted on making that a precedent, 



285 

which would have happened more easily as a con- 
sequence. It has been found much more success- 
ful, to give the Indians a love of fixed residences 
and domestic comforts ; to induce them to exchause 
hunting for cultivation, and with a change of habits, 
to give them the religious instruction, that will har- 
monize with it. But our forefathers were staunch 
dogmatists ; they thought abstruse points of faith 
the only sources of all salutary influence, and taught 
their Indian neophytes the Assembly's catechism, 
before they showed them how to spin. Societies 
were early formed in Europe and this country, for 
the propagation of the gospel among the Indians 
and others ; and if it had not been for this little 
additional clause, the society must in time have been 
without an object. Few societies that have existed 
so long, have done less ; they have employed some 
missionaries, who have struggled with more or less 
ability, to keep alive a dwindling congregation. 
This was not from any defect of good intentions, 
but from the impracticability of the object, or want 
of energy, or some defects in their system. The 
Jesuits and the Moravians have been the most pros- 
perous in their missionary labours ; and they seem to 
be the only ones, that have any hope of forming 
permanent congregations of a red colour. 

The state of Massachusetts has now four tribes 
within its limits, and under its protection. One of 
these dwells on the Penobscot, where they own a 
considerable tract of country. The state has by- 
law secured to itself the right of pre-emption, as 



286 

the United States have done with all the Indian 
tribes, to prevent their being defrauded by individu- 
als. From time to time purchases are made, as the 
Indians waste away, and then an act is made rela- 
tive to "the extinguishing the Indian title" in cer- 
tain tracts, — which, in other words, might be said 
to be, for extinguishing the Indians. The Penob- 
scot tribe consists of about 400 souls ; they retain 
their own language, and speak also a broken English. 
They dress with our kinds of garments, modified 
by Indian taste, retaining their fondness for orna- 
ments; but as these are no longer of their own 
manufacture, from feathers and shells, which would 
retain something peculiar, but are formed from the 
most sorry materials we can furnish them, fragments 
of ribands and bits of tin, they have a miserable 
appe:«rance. They are Koman Catholics after a 
manner, in which faith they were anciently in- 
structed by the Canadian Jesuits ; — they are in the 
tadpole state ; the limbs of civilization partly form- 
ed, and the tail of savage life not yet obliterated. 
Some of their chiefs are intelligent, and there are 
a few individuals among them, who have remin- 
iscences of a prouder condition. They are, I 
believe, like all the others, gradually growing worse 
and dwindling. 

The three other tribes are on a different footing. 
Two of them are situated in the county of Ply- 
mouth, in the district which we call the " Old 
Colony," — and the third at Gay Head and Martha's 
Vineyard. The former are known by the name of 



287 

tiie Massapee, and Herring-pond tribes, and the 
latter takes its name from the place of residence. 
This country, generally poor in point of soil, was 
once thickly peopled with Indians. It was the 
location, of all others, best suited to them, abound- 
ing with small lakes, and clear brooks, all replete 
with trout and many other kinds of fish ; — and in 
the spring filled with astonishing quantities of her- 
rings. In the districts, the forests contain deer 
and several kinds of game ; besides a sea-coast pos- 
sessing inexhaustible stores of shell-fish, and the 
sea itself affording a certain supply of various kinds 
of the finest fish. The light sandy soil was perfect- 
ly adapted to their imperfect cultivation, and gave 
them a supply of corn and squashes, — so that, with 
perennial stores of fish and game, even Indian im- 
providence was never left in want of subsistence. 
Here let me remark to you, by the way, on the 
singular fact ; that the oldest district in the country 
should be almost the only one, where the original 
tenants of the forest, biped and quadruped, — the 
Indian and the deer, — are still to be found ,• but 
how different is their condition ! — the latter bounds 
with as much grace and elasticity, as did its pre- 
cursors when our forefathers first landed, — how de- 
graded are the descendants of Philip and Massa- 
soit ! 

These tribes are in a state of perpetual pupilage. 
They cannot alienate their lands, or any part of 
their natural productions, of which firewood is the 
most important. Each individual has a right to 



288 

cultivate what piece of land he pleases, and this, as 
well as the hut he occupies, are his, from a kind of 
right of occupancy, which is not clearly defined. 
They have guardians appointed by the state, against 
whom the Indians occasionally make complaints to 
the legislature — it may be presumed often unrea- 
sonably — and also missionaries sent them by the 
society for propagating the gospel. These tribes 
are a kind of perquisite to the state and this society, 
who divide the care of them, and if you wish to ob- 
serve a specimen of the most degraded and misera- 
ble population in the whole countrj', you must visit 
the protegees of these two bodies. It is now nearly 
two centuries since the experiment has been going 
on, and it furnishes a standing lesson of the luckless 
consequences of vesting in states, or societies, the 
guardianship of tribes of people. Far be it from 
me to accuse either of these bodies of misconduct or 
neglect ; but either they have been guilty of both, or 
the civilization, and improvement of Indians are 
hopeless attempts. The charge of these tribes ' 
seems entailed upon the state, and serious objec- 
tions arise to their divesting themselves of it. Un- 
less, therefore, a species of benevolent exertion and 
watchful attention should arise, we shall continue 
to furnish to posterity a perpetual example of the 
poor results, that attend upon plans for Indian 
civilization.* 



* A very interesting account of these Indians, may be found in the third vol' 
lime, second series, of the Massachusetts Historical Society's papers. 



289 

There are no individuals now remaining in these 
tribes of pure Indian blood. Thej are all of a 
mixed breed, some crossed with the white, and 
some with the African races. The greater part of 
the men are employed as sailors, particularly by 
the people of Nantucket and New Bedford, in their 
whaling ships. Some of the females go into the 
neighbouring towns, as servants, returning home 
occasionally. Though they have lost the language 
and the virtues of their ancestors, and are only a 
mongrel mixture, they still retain some of their 
superstitions and customs. One of these the travel- 
ler will have occasion to notice. On the road be- 
tween Plymouth and Sandwich, there are certain 
rocks by the way-side, where the road passes 
through an extensive piece of forest, that are always 
seen covered with chips and dry sticks. These 
are called the sacrifice rocks, and every person of 
these tribes, as he passes them, always lays a dry 
stick or piece of wood upon them. The origin of 
this practice is unknown. In one of these tribes, the 
most respectable individual is of half negro and half 
Indian blood ; — and in another, a negro born in 
Africa, said to have been the son of a chieftain, and 
sold, when a boy, for a slave ; — he is now advanced 
in life, as wpH as the other, and appeared to me, in a 
short conversation, a solid, sensible man. An im- 
portant and favourite article of food with all these 
people, are the various kinds of shell-fish, of which 
they are always certain of obtaining a supply. 
Living in a slothful, filthy manner, their miserable 

87 



290 

cabins are mostly situated on the shores of two 
beautiful lakes, in the midst of very picturesque 
scenery, and in a country, which from the abun- 
dance of different kinds of game, forms the delight 
of the sportsman. 

Besides these splendid efforts in patronizing 
whole tribes, attempts have been occasionally made 
from the first settlement of the country, to give in- 
dividuals an education. The catalogues of Har- 
vard, Yale, and Dartmouth colleges, show a few 
Indian graduates. Now and then an individual has 
been qualified for being a missionary, — but not- 
withstanding all these attempts ; I do not at this 
moment recollect, that one civilized Indian has ever 
discovered any kind of superiority; not a single 
family of them has been kept up in a tame state. 
There has never been even a scion ingrafted on the 
wild stock, that has produced fruit of any value. 
The only example that I know of is in Virginia, 
where it is said some of the descendants of Poca- 
hontas are proud of their descent from that inte- 
resting princess. There are no families in this 
quarter, that have any Indian blood, avowedly, who 
have ever attained to any distinction ; though there 
are two or three who, from peculiarities of linea- 
ment or complexion, have given rise to vague, and 
probably malicious conjectures. I do not wish the 
inference to be strong against the unfortunate abo- 
rigines. If our ancestors had mixed with them on 
terms of equality, some individual families might 
have permanently veined the white mass of popu- 



291 

iation. There are one or two characters preserved 
in our histories, that interest us in a degree, like 
Pocahontas. But the prejudice against the Indians, 
even when they were our equals in some things, 
and our superiors in power, prevented all intermar- 
riages. They were treated with contempt, and of 
course with injustice. 

It would be too strong an inference to say, that 
the Indians do not possess talents capable of being 
developed by cultivation ; but it is certainly remar- 
kable, that, in the course of two centuries, and ^ 
with many opportunities furnished them, not one 
should have become distinguished. In their wild 
state they have shown themselves to be eminent as 
warriors, politicians, and orators. Massasoit and 
Philip, among our Indians, Garangula, Decanesora, 
Corn-planter, and Tecumseh, among the Six 
Nations, Tamanend, Logan, and many others, 
among the Lennape, have left a reputation that will 
preserve their names in Indian history. The wars, 
the confederacies and policy, of different Indian 
nations, show marks of talent and deep views, 
among their leaders. This we can ascertain even 
from the imperfect knowledge we have of them, 
derived through the medium of common interpre- 
ters ; and it should be remembered, that these peo- 
ple have no written records, and therefore do not 
speak for themselves ; that though they possessed 
powerful minds among them, yet every generation 
had to do all its labour for itself. As there were 
no books, no science and learning could be stored 



292 

up for progressive improvement ; and, save the 
feeble aids of confused tradition, each succession of 
men had to acquire every thing for themselves ; as 
if they were the first race of mankind, just sprung 
from " the earth, the common mother." The his- 
tory of these people, long after they shall have be- 
come extinct, will be interesting to our posterity, 
and furnish subjects for poetry and romance. They 
will be to us, what the inhabitants of the earth 
were in the fabulous ages of Greece ; a race of 
people gathered into tribes, before Ceres or Bac- 
chus, Cadmus or Hercules, had visited the world 
to exterminate monsters, and teach the means of 
cultivation and intellectual improvement. Too 
many facts will be preserved, and the contemporary 
records will be too clear to permit the same extra- 
vagance of allegory and fable ; but a remote pos- 
terity will look back with wonder to this strange 
race of men, whose country their ancestors usurped, 
and of whom there will be no other vestiges, than 
what we now have of the mammoth. 

Is there any thing in this species of men that 
makes them wither, when transplanted from the 
shades of the forest to the open grounds of cultiva- 
tion ? Are their characters suited only to a wild 
state, and incapable of artificial amelioration ? If 
reclaimed from savage life, could they distinguish 
themselves among the tame herds of policed states .'' 
Would their warriors be capable of being more 
than corporals or Serjeants, in our scientific disci- 
pline ? Would one of their prophets rise higher 



293 

than one of our fanatics in theology r Would 
their orators dwindle into mere spouting dema- 
gogues? I should not have much hesitation in 
answering these questions, if I thought we had 
fallen upon the average of Indian abilities, in those 
we have attempted to educate. But it is generally 
the poorest and most inferior part of a tribe, that 
becomes the subject of civilization. The most 
energetic spurn our habits, and if their own tribe 
is so humbled as to adopt them, fly off to some, 
that still adhere to the hunting state. There is a 
charm in savage life, that sometimes leads away 
the descendants of people, who have been civilized 
from time immemorial. How much more, then, 
may we expect apostacy in those who have been 
newly converted from it ? AVe have seen repeated 
instances of Indians, who were taken when boys, 
brought up among us, and enjoying the comforts 
of civilized life, renounce it after a series of years, 
and return once more to the forests. The most 
perfect convert is constantly in danger of a relapse ; ♦ 
a sudden caprice may restore him at once to his 
first habits, like that metamorphosed lady, who re- 
sumed instantly her claws and her whiskers, at the 
sight of a mouse. 

The only chance of saving any of this race, will 
be, by taking their children, at a very early age, 
and educating them in our habits, in a situation re- 
moved from the contagion of Indian pursuits. A 
very effectual way, too, would be the proposal that 
was made in an official report, to recommend mar- 



294 

riages between them and the whites. This sug- 
gestion was treated with obloquy and ridicule by 
shallow minds, which had not meditated, or were 
incapable of estimating the subject. But unless 
we offer them the rights of citizens, on certain con- 
ditions, we shall never, even in this way, obtain 
any but the meaner kinds. Savage as he is, the 
Indian can still see and feel all the relative positions 
of society ; and unless we surmount our prejudices 
against complexion, and allow the red man the 
same advantages as the white, what inducement 
can we offer them to adopt our customs ? How 
can it be expected that a proud, intelligent chief, 
should renounce war and hunting, become a Chris- 
tian and a cultivator, if he is to be treated with 
contempt, and deprived of all privileges, on account 
of the colour of his skin ? The experiment of civi- 
lizing them cannot be said to be fairly made, until 
you shall have imparted to them all your rights, 
when they have adopted all your habits.* 

I would not assert that our governments have 
been always just towards the Indians ; but they 

* A striking display of Indian character occurred some years since in a town in 
Maine. A.n Indian of the Kennebeck tribe remarkable for his good conduct, receiv- 
ed a grant of land from the slate, and fixed himself in a new township where a num- 
ber of families were settled. Though not ill treated, yet the common prejudice 
against Indians prevented any sympathy with him. This was shewn at the death 
of his only child, when none of the people came near him. Shortly afterwards 
he went to some of the inhabitants and said to them, When white maii^s child die- 
Indian man he sorry — he help bury him— when my child die — no one speak to 
me— I make his grave alone —I can no live here. He gave up his farm, dug up 
the body of his child, and carried it with him two hundred miles through the 
forests, to join the Canada Indians. What energy and depth of feeling does thii 
specimen of Indian character exhibit f 



295 

have been more so than those of any other nation. 
In time of war, extermination has sometimes been 
the watchword, but it was when the passions were 
roused by scenes of Indian cruelty ; even then, the 
vengeance has arisen from the stimulated fury of 
individual commanders, rather than from the orders 
of the government. The Indians are the victims, 
—but the blame should fall on those, who engage 
them to practise such shocking barbarities in their 
cause, and then leave them to their fate. The 
policy of the federal government has been, from the 
beginning, influenced by humane views towards 
the natives ; — it may not have done all in its power, 
but it has made numerous treaties with them, with 
fair stipulations, which have been observed with 
good faith. It has made some attempts at in- 
troducing the arts of civilization among them ; 
and has endeavoured to mediate and prevent wars 
between hostile tribes. More, perhaps, might have 
been done, — but are those benevolent minds, which 
deplore the sutfe rings and degradation of Indians, 
prepared to prove that they might have been pre- 
vented ? or would they support the measures and 
expenses, necessary to the experiment of civilizing 
them ? 

The flood of civilization is constantly flowing, 
till at no distant period, it must cover the whole 
of our part of the continent. It is hardly worth 
discussing the question, whether the government 
ought to confine its progress, when it is obviouly 
out of their power. Even the gens d'armes and 



296 

douaniers of" Napolooji would have been insufficient 
for this purpose ; — and how is it possible for our 
government to control the scouts, the precursors of 
civilization ? a set of restless, daring, and common- 
ly profligate beings, whose character, like their po- 
sition, is intermediate, between savage and civilized 
life, and is more prone to possess the vices of both, 
than the virtues of either. These people are as in- 
capable of the restraints of civilized society, as the 
savage himself; they move on before it, and as it 
overtakes them, still advance, — perhaps cultivating 
a little, but easil}' shifting their residence, — and 
fonder of the gun than the plough. These are the 
people with whom the Indian fcomes most in con- 
tact, and from whom he often receives injuries that 
are revenged upon the innocent. This has been 
the course of things from the beginning ; and it ap- 
pears to me quite impossible for the government to 
alter it, even if they employed a large army, and 
the greatest expenditure. The Indians must re- 
cede, and perish gradually, not through the agency 
of the whites, but through the vices and diseases 
they acquire from them. All that is practicable, 
seems to be, the civilization of those insulated 
bodies of Indians, which the rapid and accidental 
flow of civilization has left among us. What 
would be the most effectual process, or the ultimate 
results from even these limited attempts, cannot 
be very clearly defined. 

A strong reason against commencing the attempts 
at civilization, exclusively with religious instruc- 



297 

tion, is the opposition that will be opposed by In- 
dian superstition. The Indians, particularly the 
highest and least vitiated among them, are attached 
to their own notions, some of which are the sound- 
est principles of natural religion. They are very 
apt to confound our religion with the evils our so- 
ciety has brought upon them ; and their prophets 
take every occasion to excite their distrust of our 
missionaries ; — they represent it as the fatal engine 
that encloses the means of their destruction : Timeo 
Danaos et dona Jerentes, would answer for the 
motto of their w^arnings to the tribe. Sometimes 
they reject our offers with violence, — but more 
commonly with a sarcastic and deep irony, that is 
veiled under an appearance of candour and thank- 
fulness. There is a very good story on this sub- 
ject told by Dr. Franklin ; and the following, nar- 
rated by the Honourable Mr. Boudinot, in his 
" Star in the West,''"' is very creditable to Indian 
sagacity. 

This gentleman, as one of the agents of the 
society in Scotland for propagating the gospel, had 
been instrumental in fitting out two missionaries, 
who were sent to the Delaware nation. The chiefs 
were called together, and after deliberating for 
fourteen days, sent back the missionaries, very 
courteously, with an answer; which " made great 
" acknowledgments for the favour we had done 
" them. They rejoiced exceedingly at our happiness 
" in being thus favoured by the Great Spirit, and 
" felt very grateful that we had condescended to re- 
SB 



298 

'' member our brethren in the wilderness. Buf 
" they could not help recollecting that we had a 
" people among us, who, because they differed from 
" us in colour, we had made slaves of, and made 
" them suffer great hardships, and lead miserable 
" lives. Now, they could not see any reason, if a 
" people being black, entitled us thus to deal with 
"them, why a red colour would not equally justify 
" the same treatment. They therefore had deter- 
" mined to wait, to see whether all the black peo- 
" pie amongst us were made thus happy and joyful, 
" before they could put confidence in our promises, 
•' for they thought a people who had suffered so 
" much, and so long, by our means, should be en- 
" titled to our first attentions ; — that, therefore, 
" they had sent back the two missionaries, with 
" many thanks, — promising that, when they saw 
" the black people among us restored to freedom 
" and happiness, they would gladly receive our 
"■ missionaries. This is what, in any other case, 
" would be called close reasoning, and is too morti- 
" fying a fact to make further remarks upon." 

This brings me to the expression of an opinion 
that I have for some time entertained, — and in ex- 
planation of which you must indulge me with a 
little more patience. 1 am strongly inclined to be- 
lieve, that the negro is much more susceptible of 
civilization, and the improvements that follow it, 
than the Indian ; and though I would neglect noth- 
ing humanity could suggest in favour of the latter, 
I apprehend that the opportunity for doing good is. 



299 

beyond measure, more extensive in the case of the 
African, than in that of the American aboriginal. 
The Indian race has been constantly, and is now 
daily decreasing ; — the course has been going on so 
long, that there is some reason for supposing it is 
owing to some inherent and immutable principles. 
The African, on the contrary, is steadily increasing ; 
an increase, under all circumstances, that must 
make every humane and reflecting individual, look 
with painful solicitude to its future consequences. 

This is a topic, on which an inhabitant of your 
state and one of mine, can seldom converse without 
restraint, and giving rise to unpleasant feelings. 
From all I have observed, I am convinced, that 
it will always produce injurious consequences, 
for the people of these, or the middle states, 
to be the movers in any of the questions re- 
lating to slavery. They have for a long period 
taken no steps, and the proprietors in some of the 
slave-holding states, impelled by far-sighted and 
humane views, have commenced, of their own ac- 
cord, measures that may gradually lead to a system 
of amelioration and prevention. The jealousy of 
the citizens in those sections, on this point, appears 
to me not only natural, but reasonable ; they cannot 
see with calmness persons undertaking to legislate 
on a subject, which involves exclusively their pro- 
perty and safety in the most intimate manner. It 
is impossible they should not see and feel the evil, 
who live in the midst of it ; and it is equally so that 
they should not be anxious to provide gradual re- 



300 

medies for what creates so much well-founded 
anxiety ; which the humane have so long deplored, 
and which their greatest statesmen consider as a 
stain on the past, a misfortune for the present, and 
pregnant with the most extensive calamities for 
future times. All we can do advantageously, is to 
second your efforts to the utmost in our power, but 
to leave the preparation of all measures to originate 
with yourselves.* 

1 have said that the negro is more susceptible 
of civilization and improvement than the Indian, 
and the proofs of it, both negative and positive, are 
abundant. — No Indian family can be found living 
in a civilized state, educating their children, and 
accumulating property. Now, the cases of negroes 
having done this, and under every disadvantage, 
may be found in different places. This class of 
men were formerly slaves among us, and are still 
looked upon with contempt. — They have every 
thing to struggle against : yet many have obtained 
a degree of consideration, in spite of the strongest 
prejudices, by the force of good conduct. They 
have, in several instances, acquired a very comfort- 
able property, and conducted themselves with per- 
fect propriety. A much greater improvement may 
be expected among them in future, because their 
children are now almost all of them sent to school, 



* since this was written, the deplorable " Missouri Question" has arisen ; the 
the author never would have imagined, that the enlightened statesmen of the 
South would have contended for tiie extension of slavery, which their ablest mea 
have represented to be such a dreadful curse on the country. 



301 

and a fairer chance will be given to estimate their 
capacities. I was much struck by a circumstance 
1 have before mentioned, that in two of the degene- 
rate Indian tribes, under the care of the state of 
Massachusetts, the two most respectable individuals 
were of African origin. 

The negro is a more gay, light-hearted, social 
being, than the Indian ; becomes easily and perma- 
nently domesticated. Much less pains have been 
taken to improve their minds, and they have pro- 
duced more beneficial results. They have been 
more degraded, by being kept in a state of hopeless 
slavery, and the i'e,w who were emancipated from 
that, were still treated with contempt by the mean- 
est white men. They are fonder of cheerful amuse- 
ments, and in no degree so prone to drunkenness 
as the Indian. Perhaps they may not be suscepti- 
ble of the highest degree of civilization ; they may 
not have sufficient intelligence and command of their 
passions, to form the citizens of a free government. 
But in a lower scale of existence, in a state of thiugs 
that is consistent with the two extremes of misery 
and splendour, under a government, where a privi- 
leged few govern, what Spencer calls, " the rascal 
many ;^^ — for a moderate despotism, in short, they 
have shown themselves fully adequate. The court 
of St. Domingo was as splendid, as many that it 
aped ; nor was it only in this frivolity of titles, 
ribands, embroidery, or parade, that it was success- 
ful ; but in sagacious precautions for defence, and 
the greatest energy and watchfulness for carrying 



302 

its plans into execution, it lias shown clear and 
commanding views. Now, it must be recollected, 
that this has been done, not hy a people who were 
in any state of preparation, but by men who passed 
from a condition of the most abject slavery at once 
into power ; — and that they have maintained them- 
selves against a most formidable combination of 
secret perfidy and open force, and in all probability 
will now perpetuate an independent, insular gov- 
ernment, in the midst of a chain of islands, whose 
population is composed of the same materials, and 
which it may be expected, will be in some way, 
hereafter assimilated to them. 

Whether this opinion of their greater capacity for 
improvement, relatively to the Indian, be well 
founded or not, the field of experiment is beyond 
comparison wider. The blacks are fifteen or 
twenty times as numerous as the red men now ; 
and the latter are dwindling away every year, while 
the former are portentously increasing. The amount 
of good to be done, will be sufficient to satiate the 
thirst of the most ardent benevolence ; and the diffi- 
culty of effecting it, will be great enough to occupy 
the most intelligent ambition. The dangers to be 
averted, are of the most dreadfid description ; the 
advantage to be gained, of the most beneficent 
character. Those who engage in it, need have 
no fears of being left without employment ; the pro- 
cess must be gradual and cautious, to be useful, and 
will not be completed by one generation. 



303 

Thinking, as I do, that the states which have no 
slaves, should decline the exercise of any right to 
originate measures on this momentous subject ; I 
might escape, as one of their citizens, from the dif- 
ficulty of the subject, and feel bound to make no 
suggestions of what might be practicable. But 
those who dread the consequences of innovation, 
and refuse to take any measures at all, say it is 
very easy to declaim about humanity and policy ; — 
but that nothing can be done, and that the least 
change will lead to a long train of mischievous con- 
sequences and ultimate ruin. But reasoners of this 
description are not aware, that on this, as on many 
other subjects, to make no change exposes you to 
the most fearful kind of alteration : not to accommo- 
date yourself to the spirit and circumstances of your 
age, leaves you in a situation, which their progress 
will soon render awkward and defenceless ; — that 
standing still, when others are advancing, is virtual- 
ly retreating ; that every nation and every legisla- 
ture, that do not float onward with the flood of 
public sentiment, but still adhere to their old 
prejudices and fears, will be infallibly submerged 
by the very tide, that would have safely carried 
them on its bosom. 

The coarser mode of proceeding seems to have 
been resorted to in some places, — the plan of obvi- 
ating danger by increased severity ; — this will 
answer very well where the thing dreaded is tem- 
porary in its nature, and where if it does not palli- 
ate, will exterminate. But this is not a case of that 



304 

kind ; and a very little reflection must convince 
enlightened men, that greater severity, which is 
always the ready resort of rash and narrow minds, 
will here only exasperate the disorder, and inevita- 
bly bring on convulsions. 

The first step was taken by the nation in abolish- 
ing the infamous foreign traffic in slaves ; the next 
point will be a close restriction and watchful regu- 
lation of the domestic transportation, and this falls 
within the jurisdiction of local authority. The 
commencement that has been made, towards at- 
tempting a colony for the free blacks in Africa, 
argues a wise and liberal policy. No force can be 
used ; but if a suitable situation should be obtained, 
where this class could find the inducement of bet- 
tering their situation, it might be the means of not 
only relieving us, but of introducing civilization 
into that barbarous continent. To get rid wholly 
of two millions of a very prolific race, cannot enter 
into the most extravagant mind ; it is a population 
that is entailed upon us forever ; what is the best 
mode of regulating it, is the only inquiry. Total 
emancipation is quite out of the question ; it would 
be attended with innumerable evils, if it were prac- 
ticable. The only expedient seems to be a cautious 
and gradual amelioration ; till the slothful, sulky, 
smarting slaves, should be raised to the condition of 
feudal tenants, or a Russian peasantry ; — ^that their 
personal condition, though heavily restricted, should 
not be entirely without the pale of law and humani- 
ty ; — that their situation should be so far improved, 



305 

that those who are the property of the poorest or 
most unfeeling, should be as happy, as those who 
are now the property of the wealthy and humane 
planters ; — that religious and moral instruction 
should be allowed them ; — that families should not 
be torn asunder for sale ; and that they should have 
a right of self-purchase under certain stipulations, 
one of which should be that of leaving the country. 
A system of this kind might be gradually intro- 
duced, and the proprietor would derive at least 
equal emoluments, and certainly greater security. 
The shocking scenes which are sometimes occa- 
sioned by a brutal ignorant owner, would be pre- 
vented ; the degrading aspect of slavery would be 
softened ; its deleterious effects on freemen mitigat- 
ed, — and the fearful anxiety, which must rather 
increase than diminish, would be done away. 
Whatever is effected must begin with you, — we 
can only second your exertions, and with the deep- 
est sympathy for your attempts to diminish this 
great mass of evil and misery, cry, God speed you= 



39 



306 



LETTER XIII. 



SCENERY AND CLIMATE. 



Dear Sir, 

You have perhaps resided long enough on this 
side of the Atlantic, to perceive that our climate is 
as different as our scenery from that of jour own 
country. If I touch a little on what is peculiar in 
each, with some comparative allusions, you will 
readily know where I am mistaken, and perhaps 
your own observations on these subjects will be 
in some degree facilitated. 

Some foreigners from the continent of Europe, 
who are struck with the liberty and happiness we 
enjoy, and who still remember the mild climates 
they have left, assert, that we should be too fortunate, 
if we had as fine a climate as they possess ; and 
that the asperity of our weather is the only draw- 
back we suffer, the only evil to be put in the balance 
against the sufferings of Europe, by the emigrant 
who wishes to make a right estimate between the 
two countries. The natives of the south of Europe 
cannot bear our snow and icy air, and those of the 
north pant under the fervid heat of our summers. 
The one sighs after lemon-trees flourishing openly in 
January, and the other regrets a temperature ad- 



307 

mirably adapted to turnips, while he is sweltering 
in one, that makes the Indian corn grow audibly. 

There is one point in our climate that occasions 
most of these reproaches, and is in truth a serious 
objection, and this is, its great inequality. There 
would be fewer complaints if it were steadily bad ; 
— but the occasional beauty and perfection it pre- 
sents, enhances its inconveniences, by a feeling of 
disappointment. Greece and Italy cannot boast of 
more exquisite days than we are frequently favour- 
ed w ith in the summer and autumn ; and the most 
fog-smitten, ice-bound regions in Europe, can en- 
dure no worse meteorological sufferings, than are 
sometimes inflicted on us. This is an evil from 
which the country can never be exempted, though 
it will be moderated a little by the effect of cultiva- 
tion. This amelioration may never happen to the 
degree which many persons have anticipated ; — 
but that some change has been produced, almost 
every man can testify from his own experience. 

The average results of the thermometer through 
the year, compared with the same transatlantic 
data, would give a very imperfect knowledge of our 
climate. The averages that would approach the 
nearest in result, are produced from very opposite 
circumstances ; — there, they are drawn from a suc- 
cession of moderate, though variable temperatures ; 
here, from great extremes, which often last a con- 
siderable period. The climate of Flanders, and 
some parts of Germany, would exhibit tlie same 
average with some districts here, that ripen the 



308 

melon and Indian corn, — which you must enter 
Gascony and Provence, Spain and Portugal, to find 
in Kurope. Many of the richest productions of 
Ceres and Pomona meiy be raised among us, if they 
can reach maturity during the transient and fervid 
heat of our summers ; while others, such as the 
grape, whose tardy growth requires a long exemp- 
tion from frost, is always uncertain. 

The position of our continent, and the course of 
the winds, will always give us an unequal climate, 
and one abounding in contrasts. In the latitude of 
50° on the north-west coast of America, the weather 
is milder even, than in the same parallel in Europe ; 
— the wind, three quarters of the year, comes off 
the Pacific : in the same latitude on the eastern 
side, the country is hardly worth inhabiting, under 
the dreary length of cold, produced by the succes- 
sion of winds across a frozen continent. The 
wind and the sun too often carry on the contest 
here, which they exerted on the poor traveller in 
the fable ; and we are in doubt to which we shall 
yield. The changes that cultivation, and planetary 
influence, if there be such a thing, can create, are 
very gradual. It seems to be a general opinion, 
that the cold is more broken now, though the 
totals of heat and cold may be nearly the same 
as they were fifty years ago. The winters, par- 
ticularly, have commenced later. The autumn is 
warmer and the spring colder. We are still sub- 
ject to the same caprices ; a flight of snow in 
May, a frost in June, and sometimes in every 



309 

month in the year; and Jilohis indulges his servants 
in stranger freaks and extravagances here, than 
elsewhere : yet the severe cold seldom sets in before 
January ; the snow is less and later, and on the 
sea-coast does not, on an average, afford more than 
a month's sleighing. 

These contrasts in our climate occasion some very 
picturesque effects, — some that would be considered 
phenomena by persons unaccustomed to them. It 
blends together the circumstances of very distant 
regions in Europe. Thus, when the earth lies 
buried under a deep covering of snow, in Europe, 
the clime is so far to the north, that the sun rises 
but little above the horizon, and his daily visit is a 
very short one ; — his feeble rays hardly illumine a 
chilly sky, that harmonizes with the dreary waste 
it covers ; but here, the same surface reflects a daz- 
zling brilliancy from rays that strike at the same 
angle, at which they do the dome of St. Peter's. 
The plains of Siberia and the Campagna di Roma, 
are here combined; — we have the snow of the one, 
and the sun of the other, at the same period. 
While his rays, in the month of March, are ex- 
panding the flowers and blossoms at Albano and 
Tivoli, they are here falling on a wide, uninterrup- 
ted covering of snow, — producing a dazzling bril- 
liancy that is almost insupportable. A moonlight 
at this season is equally remarkable, and its ef- 
fects can be more easily endured. Our moon is 
nearly the same with that moon of Naples, which 



310 

Cairacioli told the king of England was " superior 
to his majesty's sun," — when this surface of spot- 
less snow is shone upon by this moon at its full, and 
reflects back its beams, the light, indeed, is not that 
of day, but it takes away all appearance of night ; 
— the witch and the spectre would shrink from its 
exposure : 

" It is not niwht ; — 'tis but the daj»liglit sick ; 
" It looks a little paler." 

The climate is more open on the sea-coast, and 
more unequal than in the interior. Rhode-Island, 
and some of the islands on that part of the coast, 
approach more nearly than any other part of our 
country does, to the mild temperature of England. 
The snow lies but a short time, and the extremes 
of heat and cold are a little mitigated. Particular 
situations will possess advantages over others, either 
from the nature of the soil, the position of hills, or 
the joint effect of both ; — but circumstances of this 
kind have not here been minutely attended to. In 
Europe, these local peculiarities are well understood 
and improved, — and a favoured valley, or well-ex- 
posed slope, will possess a reputation over all others 
in its vicinity. Observation will gradually lead us 
to remark the best positions, and to appreciate the 
superiority which certain localities intrinsically ex- 
hibit. 

On the sea-coast, the winters are milder, but the 
obnoxious east winds are more severely felt in the 
spring than they are in the interior ; — the whole 



311 

coast of Massachusetts Bay is remarkably exposed 
to their influence. Some compensation, however, 
is derived for their harshness and virulence in the 
spring, by their refreshing and salutary breezes in 
the summer, when they frequently allay the sultry 
heat, and prevent it from becoming oppressive. 
Although a district favourably situated, will enjoy 
an average of climate two or three degrees better 
than those in its neighbourhood, yet, generally, the 
progress of the climate is pretty regular as you fol- 
low the coast of the United States, from north-east 
to south-west. I am induced to think that our 
great rivers have some connexion with the grada- 
tions of climate ; — that every large river you pass, 
makes a difference of two or three degrees in the 
averages of the thermometer. The position of moun- 
tains will affect the climate essentially ; — but these 
rivers, whose course upwards is northerly, will still, 
in general, be lines of demarkation. The Kennebec, 
the Piscataqua, the Merrimac, Connecticut, Hudson, 
and Delaware, all of which run from the north, or 
north-west, will furnish some data for this theory. 
The difference, for instance, between Portsmouth and 
Boston, between New-York and Philadelphia, is, in 
both cases, very considerable ; more than is produc- 
ed in other districts of wider extent, where no great 
river intervenes. Here there are two in each of 
these cases. I do not mean to give it to you as a 
positive theory, but merely as a supposition, that 
every large river makes an increase of three degrees 
in the cold of winter, at least in the extremes of it. 



/ 



S12 

One of the most agreeable peculiarities in our 
climate is a period in the autumn, called the Indian 
Summer, it happens in October, commencing a few 
d ays earlier or later, as the season may be. The 
temperature is delightful and the weather differing in 
its character from that of any other season. The air 
is filled with a slight haze, like smoke, which some 
persons suppose it to be ; the wind is south west, 
and there is a vernal softness in the atmosphere ; 
yet the different altitude of the sun from what it 
has in the summer, makes it in other respects very 
unlike that season. This singular occurrence in our 
climate seems to be to summer, what a vivid 
recollection of past joys is to the reality. The 
Indians have some pleasing superstitions respecting 
it, " They believe that it is caused by a wind, which 
" comes immediately from the Court of their great 
" and benevolent god Cautantowwit, or the south- 
" western god, the god, who is superior to all other 
" beings, who sends them every blessing which they 
" enjoy, and to whom the souls of their fathers 
" go after their decease."* 

There would be no more effectual way of show- 
ing the striking differences between our climate and 
that of Europe, than by arranging the months in 
each country according to their quality. The 
same months have a very dissimilar character. 
Generally speaking, the spring is finer than the 
autumn, in Europe, which is just the reverse of 
what happens in this country. Nations, through the 

* Note to Dr. Freeman's occasiooal Sermons. 



313 

influence of literature, obtain from each other 
maxims and prejudices, that are wholly inapplicable. 
We are especially exposed to this, as regards your 
country, from the identity of language. But 
when your poets abuse November, and praise May, 
we cannot sympathise with them. Indeed, with 
regard to this latter month, half the world are led 
into absurdity. The poets of Greece might eulo- 
gize the month of May ; — those of Italy might fol- 
low them with safety ; and from these two, all the 
rest of mankind have derived the habit of talking 
about the "charming month of May." This is 
often ridiculous in Paris, — more so, perhaps, than 
it is at London ; but in this country it is a down- 
right insult to the feelings of plain prose, and our 
native rhymers have seldom the indecency to praise 
a month, which is the most arrant jilt of the twelve, 
and is so cold, deceptive, and capricious, under an 
occasional smile ; it is now only practised by those, 
who have got their ideas and names by rote. In 
arranging the months, there may be some variation 
in the fancy of different people ; — but in all cases, 
the position of certain months would be very differ- 
ent from their rank in Europe. If I were to place 
them according to my own opinion of their merits, 
they would stand thus : — June, July, Se[)tember, 
August, October, November, May, December, 
January, April, February, March. But there would 
be many different plans for marshalling them, — and 
chaos would come again, if their order were at our 
disposal. Fortunately, their government is be-; 
40 



314 

youd our reach ; — we cannot stop the wheels on 
which they revolve. 

In connexion with our climate, the appearance of 
our atmosphere may be considered ; the lover of 
picturesque beauty will find this a fruitful source of 
it. The same inequalities will • be found here, that 
take place in the measure of heat and cold, and 
an equal number of contrasts and varieties. We 
have many of those days, when a murky vapour- 
ishness is diifused through the air, dimming the lustre 
of the sun, and producing just such tones of light 
and colour as would be marked in the calendar of 
Newfoundland or the Hebrides, for a bright, fair 
day. We have again others, in which even the 
transparency and purity of the tropics, and all the 
glowing, mellow hues of Greece and Naples, are 
blended together, to shed a hue of paradise on 
every object. I have already spoken of the intense 
brilliancy of a winter moonlight, when the air has 
a polar temperature ; the same brilliancy and a 
greater clearness is often found in the month of 
June, and sometimes in July, with the warmth of 
the Equator. There are, occasionally, in the sum- 
mer and autumn such magical effects of light, 
such a universal tone of brilliant colouring, that 
rhe very air seems tinged ; and an aspect of such 
harmonious splendour is thrown over every object, 
that the attention of the most indifferent is awakened, 
and the lovers of the beautiful in nature enjoy the 
most lively delight. These are the kind of tints, 
which even the matchless pencil of Claude vainly 



315 

endeavoured to imitate. They occur a few times 
every year, a little before sunset, under a particu- 
lar state of the air and position of the clouds. These 
beautiful appearances are not so frequent indeed 
here, as they are at Naples ; all those warm and 
delicate colours which we see in Neapolitan pic- 
tures, occur there more often ; but I have frequent- 
ly observed the hills to the south of Boston ex- 
hibiting, towards sunset, the same exquisite hues 
which Vesuvius more frequently presents, and 
which the Neapolitans, in their paintings of it, 
always adopt. The vivid beauty which I now 
speak of, is rare and transient ; but we often enjoy 
the charms of a transparent atmosphere, where ob- 
jects stand in bold relief, and even distant ones 
will present all their lines and angles, clear and 
sharp, from the deep distant sky, as on the shores 
of Greece ; and we gaze at sunset on gorgeous 
skies, where all the magnificence that form and 
colour can combine, is accumulated, to enrapture 
the eye, and render description hopeless. 

The scenery of this country will have struck you 
at once, as very different from that of Europe : — 
this difference is partly intrinsic, and partly acci- 
dental, — arising out of the kinds and degrees of 
cultivation. The most obvious and extensive view 
in which it differs, is the redundancy of forest. A 
vast forest, to a person who had never seen one, 
would excite almost as strong sensations, as the 
sight of the ocean to him, who beheld it for the 
first time, — and in both cases, a long continuance 



316 

of the prospect becomes tiresome. From some of 
our hills, the spectator looks over an expanse of 
woods, bounded by the horizon, and slightly che- 
quered with cultivation. The view is grand and 
imposing at first, but it will be more agreeable, and 
aiiord more lasting gratification, when the relative 
proportions of wood and open ground are reversed. 
The most cultivated parts of these states, approach 
the nearest to some of the most covered parts in 
England, that are not an actual forest. AVe have 
nothing like the Downs, on your southern coast, — 
and fatiguing as an eternal forest may be, it is less 
so than those dreary wastes, as destitute of objects, 
as the mountain swell of the ocean. We have 
still so much wood, that even in the oldest cultivat- 
ed parts of the country, it is very difficult to find a 
panoramic view of any extent, where some patches 
of the native forest are not to be found. I know of 
but one exception, which is from the steeple of the 
church in Ipswich in Essex, Massachusetts. This 
is one of our oldest towns ; the prospect will put 
you in mind of the scenery of your own country : 
— I need not add, that it is a very pleasing one, 
and will repay you for the slight trouble of ascend- 
ing the steeple. 

The trees, though there are too many of them at 
least, in masses, must please the eye of an Euro- 
pean, from their variety and beauty, as well as 
novelty. The richness of our trees and shrubs has 
always excited the admiration of botanists, and the 
lovers of landscape gardening. There can be noth- 



317 

ing nobler, than the appearance of some of the 
oaks and beeches hi England, and the vvahiuts and 
chestnuts in France and Italy. The vast size of 
these spreading trees is only surpassed by some of 
our sycamores on the banks of the Ohio. Our 
oaks may sometimes be seen of the same size, — 
and the towering white pine and hemlock reach a 
height that I had never seen attained by trees in 
Europe ; — but, for grandeur of appearance, we 
must rely, in the first instance, on the American 
elm, that has been planted for ornament. Its 
colour, its form, and its size, place it much before 
the European elm ; it is one of our most majestic 
trees. There are many varieties of it, very distinct, 
— yet not so numerous as of the oaks, walnuts, and 
some others. Of the former, you know we have 
between thirty and forty different species, and a 
great number of species exist of all our principal 
trees. This variety, in the hands of taste, would 
be made productive of the finest effects in ornamen- 
tal planting, of which you may find more specimens 
in your own country than in this, though only a 
part of our riches in this way have been transplant- 
ed by your gardeners. You will remark the fresh 
and healthy look of our forest, as well as fruit 
trees, compared with those of all the northern parts 
of Europe. The humidity of that atmosphere 
nourishes the mosses, and a green coating over the 
trunks and branches, that give the aspect of disease 
and decay. You will often observe the clean and 
smooth bark of our trees, of all kinds ; — among the 



318 

forest trees, particularly the walnut, maple, beech, 
birch, &c. will be seen entirely free from moss or 
rust of any kind, — and their trunks form fine con- 
trasts with the leaves. You will have too much of 
forest in this country, to go in pursuit of one ; — but 
should you happen to visit Naushawn, one of the 
Elizabeth Islands, you will see the most beautiful 
insulated forests in the United States, with less of 
that ragged, lank look, which our native forests 
commonly present, from the trees struggling with 
each other for the light, and running up to a great 
height, with few or no branches ; but this one ex- 
hibits the tufted, rounded masses, which are found 
in the groves of your parks. 

You will be almost ready to exclaim, with the 
capricious fair one in Pope, " O ! odious, odioUs 
trees," — but you must have patience a moment 
longer, while 1 mention a peculiarity which you 
will witness in autumn, that will affect a lover of 
landscape scenery, like yourself, on seeing it the 
first time, with surprise as well as delight. The 
rich and mellow tints of the forest, at that season 
of the year, have often furnished subjects for the 
painter and the poet, in Europe ; — but it will hard- 
ly prepare you for the sights our woods exhibit. I 
have never seen a representation of them attempted 
in painting ; — it would probably be grotesque. Be- 
sides all the shades of brown and green, which you 
have in European trees, there are the most brilliant 
and glaring colours, — bright yellow, and scarlet, 
for instance, — not merely on single leaves, but in 



M 



319 

masses of whole trees, with all their foliage thus 
tinged. I do not know that it has ever been ac- 
counted for ; it may perhaps, be owing to the frosts 
coming earlier here than in Europe, and falling on 
the leaves, while the sap is yet copious, before they 
have begun to dry up and fall off. However this 
may be, the colouring is wonderful ; — the walnut 
is turned to the brightest yellow, the maple, to 
scarlet, &c. Our trees put on this harlequin dress 
about the first of October. I leave to your imagi- 
nation, which can never reach the reality, to fancy 
the appearance of such scenes as you may behold 
at this season ; — a cloudless sky, and transparent 
atmosphere, — a clear blue lake, with meadows of 
light, delicate green, backed by hills and dales, of 
these parti-coloured, gorgeous forests, are often 
combined, to form the most enchanting views.* 



* The reader who has any relic of veneration for Pomona and the Hama- 
dryads, will excuse this supplementary note. We have several individual trees 
that are remarkable, I can only mention two or three. In Salem, there is a 
pear tree still producing fruit, that was planted by Governor Endicott in his gar- 
den in 1630, and which is now owned by his descendants. At Sagadahoc in 
Maine, when the French had a footing in 1689, there is an apple tree with some 
remains of life, amidst the ruins of their dwellings. The trunk is nearly the size 
of a hogshead and entirely hollow. It was almost a century after before any 
apple trees were planted in the neighbouring country. In Hartford the oak yet 
stands, in which the Connecticut charter was secreted, during the disastrous admin- 
istration of Andross, when all the New-England charters were taken away. Gov- 
ernor And ross went to Hartford to obtain the charter of Connecticut ; when the 
Council were assembled with Audioss in ihe evening, whilethe destined victim was 
lying on the table, the lights were suddenly extinguished. Captain Wadsworth 
seized the Charter and hid it in this tree, which even then, in 1692, was hollow 
with age. This tree forms an appropriate counterpart to the " royal oak" of En- 
gland. The most celebrated of all our trees however, was the Liberty tree in 
Boston, which fell a sacrifice to party vengeance, and was cut down when the 
Rritish troops got possession of the town. It was an elm of vast size of whick 



320 

Though you will not find in this country, any 
of those extensive districts of uninterrupted cultiva- 
tion, which are so common in Europe; and though 
there is such a predominance of forest in our sce- 
nery, still there are situations presenting a noble 
appearance of fertile soil and productive agriculture. 
The beautiful river Connecticut, as it glides by 
some of the handsomest villages in Vermont, New- 
Hampshire, Massachusetts, and the state to which 
it gives a name, is, through almost its whole extent, 
bordered with fertile banks in high cultivation. 
These lands, those at least that are within reach of 
the river floods, have here the common appellation 
of intervale. This species of land, on all our rivers, 
is the most valuable we possess, and gives peren- 
nially the most exuberant crops. There are some 
extended tracts of it near Northampton, for exam- 
ple, which rival the aspect of the richest plains in 
Flanders or Italy. 

Almost the whole of New-England is a region 
of gentle hill and dale, except where in the northern 
or western parts it rises into mountains. The 
whole surface is chequered with cultivation, ex- 
cepting some portions of Maine. The practice of 
the country is not to build in compact villages, as 
in Europe, but the dwellings and farms are scatter- 
only the sturap remains. Many transactions leading to the revolution took 
place beneath it. Trees in various places in this country and Europe, were 
named after it : in France at one time every municipality had one, but in tliat 
country they never flourished and 6nally perished root and branch under Napo- 
leon. Their fate as usual was commemorated with a calembourg, tmtranslatea- 
ble. Dt lous les arbres de la liberte il n'en reste plus gut l^ecorce- 



321 

ed along the roads. You would not get a correct 
idea of the population of the country, in passing 
through it by the mail roads. These are generally 
the turnpikes that have been made within a few 
years, and connect the principal towns by the 
shortest routes ; passing in strait lines over rocky 
hills, and through swamps, offering no marks of 
cultivation or inhabitants, even in the midst of 
a populous section, while the old public roads in 
the vicinity, which were established with little re- 
ference to the shortest lines between remote places, 
wind their way through a long line of continuous 
farms and dwellings. The general good that was 
educed from these turnpikes, was, in the opinion of 
some persons, out of "• seeming evil." — When the 
spirit for this kind of improvement was very rife 
in Massachusetts, a farmer, who had come to op- 
pose the petition for a turnpike, was standing 
outside the bar of the representatives' chamber, 
while a gentleman was talking with another about 
the purchase of a farm. He took part in the con- 
versation, without any introduction, a circumstance 
not wholly unexampled in this country, and addres- 
sing himself to the person who contemplated mak- 
ing a purchase ; — " You talk. Sir, of buying a 
farm ? Yes, Sir. — Do you wish to have it on a 
high road, where the traveller will pass your house ? 
Certainly I do. — Well, Sir, then do you go right 
into the middle of the woods, and begin a farm any 
where, and it is an even chance that you will have 
a turnpike by your house in a year or two ; but if 

41 



522 

you fix yoursell* on any established roaJ, where the 
mail and public travelling passes, I vow it will be 
taken from you, before you have got warm in your 
house." 

The most pleasing of our rural scenes, and which 
are frequently met with, are composed of the fol~ 
lowing materials ; a farm-house shaded with two 
or three spreading elms, large barns, for not only 
the grain and the hay, (which are stacked in Eu- 
rope,) but where all our animals, are housed, — an 
extensive orchard, one or two fields of that noble 
plant, the Indian corn, beautiful in all its stages ; a 
small brook with a green meadow ; and within 
sight, if not adjoining, the woodland that supplies 
the common fuel of the country. 

Our picturesque objects of an artificial kind, are 
vastly fewer than those in older countries. The 
total absence of ruins, deprives us of what is an 
abundant source of associations in Europe. No 
artist could be reconciled to this deficiency, and in 
truth we have no other way to turn the edge of 
reproach on this account, than by boldly assuming, 
that the landscape is better without them : — that 
the sight of these grisly, hideous remains, conjure 
up the ideas of baronial oppression, feudal slavery, 
and monkish delusion ; — that in those mouldering 
dungeons were formerly immured the victims of 
priestly or lordly tyranny ; — and those ruined walls 
once protected a few lawless despots, who carried 
on a petty but cruel warfare for personal revenge, 
and held a wretched peasantry in abject depen- 



323 

dence ; — that they recall times of ignorance and 
misrule, of barbarism and murder, and awaken 
painful recollections in the midst of the most smiling 
scenery ; — that in this happy region of freedom, 
where no slave exists, and no oppression ever dwelt, 
the earth is encumbered with no mark or trophy of 
despotism ; no monument attests a period of ante- 
rior degradation, and wherever the eye turns, it 
beholds the unpolluted soil of liberty ! 

If this ranting will not do, I must frankly give 
up the point, and acknowledge our want of this 
class of objects. There is another of a humbler 
and more pleasing kind, that are also rarely found 
here ; I mean the straw roofed cottage, the latticed 
window, the antique mansion, the ivied church. 
Here and there an old farm-house may be found, that 
would serve a painter's turn, and frequently a dis- 
tant steeple peeps over the trees, that has a pleasing 
effect, till you come near the building it belongs to, 
when all idea of the picturesque is at once annihi- 
lated. Our houses are plain, square, regular things, 
suggesting at once that our carpenters are good 
workmen, and that the country is in a flourishing 
state, which is so spotted over with white painted 
dwellings. An artist could seldom get a study 
mto his port- folio from one of these habitations. 
In the paucity of subjects of this nature, 1 may 
mention one that is fast disappearing. This is the 
w^ell-post, where a crotched tree is made to support 
a slender pole, from one end of which hangs the 
rod and bucket over the well, and balanced by a 



324 

log or a few stones fastened to the other.* A con- 
trivance of this kind, which goes back to the primi- 
tive ages of the world, rn ay still be found attached 
to some old farm-houses ; but in this case I believe 
the house will almost always be of one story, or in 
the old manner of building, with two stories in 
front, and a long roof, sloping down to one behind. 
— These rude machines are fast giving way to 
pumps or aqueducts, which are doubtless more 
convenient. The science of hydraulics has done 
much for the comfort of mankind, but it has done 
away one of the simplest, and one of the grandest, 
classes of artificial objects. The rural well-pole, 
which a few rude hands can erect, and the colossal 
aqueduct, still displaying some of the noblest efforts 
of Roman grandeur, are both superseded by the 
simplest principle of that science. 

The mountain scenery of this country is inferior 
to that of Europe, not only in elevation and mas- 
siveness, but in beauty and grandeur of outline. 
We have nothing in these respects to compare with 
the Pyrennees and the Alps. The highest moun- 
tains in the whole region of North America, on the 
Atlantic side, are in the state of New-Hampshire ; 
these which are modestly called the White Hills, 
do not rise above 6000 feet. The mountains of 
Vermont and Massachusetts do not exceed 4000 
feet. These mountains cannot fail of exhibiting 

* Dr. Clarke in his travels has a vignette containing a well-pole in Norway, 
coeval with the earliest ages of .Scandinavia, and exactly reseiubling those near 
old farm houses in New>£ngland. 



325 

some grand and beautiful scenery, but still not equal 
to that of the European continent. The outline of 
our mountains is more rounding, and tamer, what is 
significantly termed, hog-back ; there are fewer of 
those astounding precipices, of those deep and 
gloomy ravines, of those abrupt elevations, and 
towering peaks ; and the sublimity of the eternal 
glaciers of Mont-Blanc must always be wanting. 
It must be remembered, however, that all the 
treasures of our mountains have not been laid open ; 
they have been very partially explored by the 
artist or the man of science. It is but recently that 
their height was accurately ascertained. Their in- 
terior has been little examined ; their exterior rarely 
portrayed. They may possess mines of wealth for 
the mineralogist and the artist, which future efforts 
will develope. 

After admitting the inferiority of our mountain 
landscape generally to that of Europe, we may be 
allowed to bring forward our water scenerv, in 
which the United States possess a decided superi- 
ority. From the vast cataract of Niagara down to 
the smallest cascade ; from our ocean lakes to the 
delightful ponds of water, that embellish almost 
every part of the eastern states, there is no form of 
grandeur or beauty that may not be discovered. 
Waterfalls are very abundant. Our streams are 
remarkable for flowing over different levels: not 
a brook or a river but precipitates itself more than 
once between its source and its receptacle. Our 
rivers are navigable for long distances, after their 



326 

course is interrupted by falls, which naturally grow 
more and more numerous as they are ascended. A 
waterfall in Europe, is the most uncommon of all 
the ingredients of landscape. The falls of the 
Rhine, which attract the admiration of so many 
travellers, would hardly engage observation among 
the numbers, that surpass them here. Two-thirds 
of the course of our rivers would be useless to trans- 
portation, were it not for locks and canals ; while 
in Europe, the Thames, the Seine, the Loire, the 
Garonne, the Danube, and many others, may be 
ascended from their estuaries almost to their sour- 
ces, without meeting a single cascade. 

It is difficult to single out of such a number, the 
falls that are most worthy of your observation. 
The Kennebeck, Androscoggin, Saco, Merrimac, 
Connecticut, with their tributaries, and many 
streams of inferior note, will offer you specimens. 
In some instances, the road is carried over bridges 
so near to waterfalls, that the traveller is deafened 
by their noise, and sometimes moistened with their 
spray ; the Pawtucket, in Rhode-Island, the Saco 
and Androscoggin, in Maine, are instances among 
many others. None of these falls are very remar- 
kable for their height in any one leap, but are 
generally from ten to twenty or thirty feet, yet are, 
in several rivers, repeated at short distances. In 
many cases the natural beauties are defaced, by 
the mills they support ; but there are others where 
the effect is heightened ; — in this latter class, two 
or three of the cascades on Charles's River may be 



327 

uieiitioned, and the most beautiful of these, what 
are called the Upper Falls in Newton, a few miles 
from Boston, exhibit a piece of scenery worth 
visiting. 

Next in beauty to falls of water, is the class of 
lake scenery, where our possessions are, if possible, 
still more extensive ; and with the same moderation 
that we call our mountains, hills, we call our lakes, 
ponds. There are several extensive sheets of 
water, but only three that are commonly called 
lakes; Champhiin in Vermont, Winipiseogee in 
New-Hampshire and Moosehead in Maine. Lake 
George is the most beautiful lake in the whole 
country; it is just without our limits, in the state 
of New-York ; it was called by the French the 
Lake of the Holy Sacrament, from the extreme 
limpidness of its waters. This quality, for which 
it is very remarkable, joined to the mountainous 
character of its shores, and innumerable islands, 
enables it to vie with any other in the world in 
beautiful effect. On a smaller scale, we have num- 
bers of these lakes that form exquisite pictures, — 
they are to be found every where, sometimes show- 
ing a bright gleam in the midst of a dark untouched 
forest, and reflecting no living forms, save those of 
some wild bird or animal, and in other situations, 
surrounded by meadows and farms. You may 
form some idea how many of these ponds may be 
found, when told that within a dozen miles of Bos- 
ton there are more than twenty of them, and in 
Plymouth County, Massachusetts, not of very great 



328 

extent, there are said to be sixty. There are only 
a few instances, in which the beautiful sites on their 
borders have been taken up for country residences ; 
but the advantages they offer to the eye of taste are 
innumerable ; and where they are surrounded by 
high ground, there is no evil in being near them. 
Some of our most beautiful villas will yet be created 
on their shores. 

One peculiar spot in the vicinity of Boston you 
must not omit visiting, if you are fond of marine 
scenery ; and what islander, — and from your island 
too, is not animated by the sight of the ocean ? — 
There is a remarkable promontory, called, in old 
maps, the Great Nahant, nine miles from Boston 
by water, and fifteen by land. A peninsula of 
very irregular outlisie and surface, five or six miles 
in circumference, is united by a beach of a mile and 
a quarter long to the coast, from which it projects 
so as to form a right angle with it. The upper 
part of this beach is composed of loose sand and 
stones ; where the water fiows, it is quite compact, 
and at low tide a dozen carriages may pass abreast 
on the sand, which appears smooth as a mirror, and 
so hard, that the horse's hoof scarcely leaves a 
mark. There is also another beach of the same 
description, about one-third the length of the first; 
nothing can be finer than a ride over these smooth, 
hard courses, while the surf is rolling up and burst- 
ing in foam alongside, that runs and recedes under 
the horse's feet, as if in sport. The coast of this 
peninsula is defended from the fury of the sea, by 



329 

masses of ragged precipitous rocks, which at the 
sontherii extremities overhang it at the height of 
more than a hundred feet. There are half a dozen 
farm houses, which afford the only places of shelter 
— it can hardly be called entertainment — to great 
numbers who frequent the spot for bathing, fishaig, 
or shooting. 

It is surprising that this place should have been 
so long destitute of all tolerable accommodation for 
visiters. It might be one of the most delightful sea- 
bathing places in the world : to such as are fond of 
fishing, its shores afford endless sport. Some 
gentlemen have turned their attention to it of late, 
and it may soon become a place of great resort. 
On the whole coast of the United States, at least 
from Portland to the southern side of the Mexican 
Gulf, there is not such a promontory as this. It 
presents some of the finest marine views that can 
be seen. One of its accompaniments, a league 
distant, is called Egg-rock, from being the home of 
vast numbers of birds, who make their nests upon 
it ; its shape and colours are highly picturesque. 

Nahant commands a prospect over a large part 
of the bay of Massachusetts, with the finest portion 
of its shores ; it approaches so near to the lower 
harbour of Boston, as almost to form one of its 
defences ; overseeing all its islands and channels ; 
the forts, with the town itself, rising in the back 
ground. The seascape here is always interesting ; 
the materials for a picture abundant : in the first 
place, the ocean, whose incessant movement and 

42 



330 

boundless expanse engage the mind in reve- 
ries ; the extensive shores, various in their ap- 
pearance, and spotted over with towns, villages, 
and groves ; the islands and the disastrous rocks, 
of which there are several to excite the dread of 
mariners ; the light-houses, which always raise 
agreeable associations in the mind, being one of 
the few objects that are erected, in a spirit of 
universal comity, for the common good of all man- 
kind ; and, lastly, a gay animation is thrown over 
the whole, by the scene being interspersed with 
numerous vessels of all kinds, which lead the specta- 
tor, who overlooks the entrance of a great com- 
mercial mart, to sympathize in imagination with 
some of the liveliest joys and regrets of the human 
mind, — the sensations that are passing in the bosoms 
of those before him, in " the outward and the 
homeward bound," — the grief of departure, the 
exultation of return. The south-east point of the 
peninsula resembles very strongly the picture in the 
travels of Anacharsis, of Cape Sunium near Athens ; 
only that the beautiful temple on the brink of the 
Grecian Cape, whose harmonious architecture con- 
trasts so strikingly with the rude rocks beneath it, is 
here wanting. Perhaps hereafter, when Nahant shall 
possess a handsome marine village, and become the 
summer residence of many families, a church may 
be raised on these rocks to the worship of that 
eternal God, who alone spreads out the heavens^ aiid 
rules the raging of the sea. 

In travelling through the country, you will see 
cultivation in all its different stages, from the rude 



331 

iog-house of those who have just commenced an 
establishment in the midst of the forest, to farms in 
the older districts, that have been cultivated for 
nearly two centuries. You will see a country 
almost every where susceptible of profitable cultiva- 
tion, with but a few spots absolutely sterile, and 
some of the highest fertility. The surface is agree- 
ably variegated, and copiously watered; and no 
where those dreary wastes, like the heaths and 
downs of Europe. There are considerable tracts, 
on the sea coast however, where the soil is full as 
meagre as that of the heaths ; they are now kept 
for woodland. If ever this wood is suffered to run 
out, these spots will become perfectly barren. 

You will rarely perceive any marks of decay, but 
almost every where the indications of prosperity 
gradually increasing. This aspect of general com- 
fort and happiness, will be a substitute for the want 
of many interesting objects that are found in Europe, 
and which are too often accompanied with appear- 
ances of misery. Though you will behold no 
magnificent castles or villas, you will find, every 
where, substantial dwellings, and more appearances 
of wealth, than displays of taste. In the vicinity 
of the larger towns, there are many handsome 
country seats, laid out on those principles, which 
we have borrowed from you, and which ornament 
every part of your island. Our improvements in 
this way are most of them recent, and taken from 
your country, from which we have derived so much, 
and towards which we should feel so much affec- 



332 

tiou, if political animosities did not interfere, to 
exasperate the passions. This taste is not yet 
generally spread, but will soon make its way, — and 
then the number of fences that surround the better 
kind of dwellings, and are intended to be ornamen- 
tal, though they have an awkward look, and are 
very troublesome to keep in order, will be replaced 
by Jiedgcs, lawns, and shrubberies. 

There is almost an instinctive dislike to forest 
trees, in many of our farmers, and they seldom con- 
sider them as an ornament. This feeling naturally 
arose out of the difficulty of clearing a piece of 
land from its original forests. In those who com- 
menced their farms with this kind of labour, the 
feeling can hardly be eradicated, — and the habit of 
considering trees as a kind of nuisance, which ought 
to be destroyed, became general. It is not uncom- 
mon, therefore, to find a farmer cut down oaks 
that were near his house, and plant Lombardy 
poplars, as more ornamental. The increasing value 
of wood, and the example of better taste, will 
gradually prevent the repetition of similar absurdi- 
ties. We have, however, to guard against too servile 
an imitation of your style of landscape gardening. 
The circumstances of the country are different, and 
the great beauties that grow out of contrast, must 
be produced in other ways. In Europe, where the 
country is universally cultivated, its unvaried aspect 
is fatiguing, and therefore the gardeners resort to 
thick plantations, and continued belts of trees ; — 
but here, where there is already too much of forest 



333 

in the scenery, it should only be attempted to have 
a sufficient degree of shade for shelter, — and the 
view of cultivated grounds rather assisted than 
prevented ; — a discriminating taste will be governed 
by these circumstances. 

You must not expect the park-like appearance of 
your own country ; you must not look for that suc- 
cession of neat fields, ornamented grounds, pictur- 
esque plantations, and perfect tillage, with which 
wealth, taste, and agricultural skill, have almost 
covered the surface of England ; — but if you will 
look with candour on a young country, indulge 
cheerful sensations at its improving state, which 
will every where appear ; if you will not be disap- 
pointed at seeing no vestiges of remote antiquity, 
or any of those splendid establishments great 
wealth can produce ; if your mind can be satisfied 
with frequent combinations of the loveliest natural 
scenery, you will find a tour through many parts 
of this section of the Union, to be attended with 
srreat satisfaction. 



334 



LETTER XIY. 



HARVARD UNIVERSITY. 



Mv DEAR Friend, 

You make some inquiries respecting our colleges. 
I cannot give jou accurate details about many of 
them ; but a general account of the oldest, and the 
one I am best acquainted with, may answer your 
purpose ; if you wish for more minute information, 
it will be readily obtained by addressing yourself to 
some of the gentlemen connected with it. Their 
plan of education is nearly the same, and the choice 
to be made, must depend on various considerations. 
Local convenience and economy are the general 
motives that send most of the students to all these 
colleges, in preference, to those at Cambridge and 
New-Haven. The students who come from a dis- 
tance, are almost exclusively entered at one of these 
places, which, as they are the oldest, so they also 
possess the greatest number of professors, and the 
largest apparatus for study. 

Our colleges were established without reference 
to any general system. Each state has at least 
one ; — in some, there are two or three. The Theo- 
logical College at Andover, in Massachusetts, is 



335 

solely devoted to students in divinity, who are pre- 
paring for the Christian ministry ; — in tlie others, 
all the chief branches of learning are taught, — but 
only one of them, that at Cambridge, is strictly 
entitled to the name of University, — and though it 
has long borne the appellation, it is but recently 
that it could be really so considered. Yale College, 
at New-Haven, has derived a high reputation, from 
the distinguished abilities of some of its late and 
present instructors ; but neither its " persomteV^ nor 
" materieP are sufficiently complete, to make it a 
university. It is, however, a very flourishing insti- 
tution, and counts, among its students, youths from 
all parts of the United States. I am not qualified to 
go into a particular description of it ; but some of 
the remarks I shall offer you upon Harvard Uni- 
versity, will apply to this, and all our other col- 
leges. 

One principle is common to all these establish- 
ments, and which will prevent any of them becom- 
ing truly a university, until it is changed : this is, 
the early age at which the students are admitted. 
Some of them are so young, that they are brought 
to the study of the moral and physical sciences, 
before their minds are matured enough, to derive 
any lasting advantage from it. This was owing, 
originally, to the circumstances of the country. 
Little more was intended, than to make these col- 
leges a place were the learned languages might be 
acquired, and the students merely initiated in the 
study of the sciences. We were too young, too 



336 

poor, liad too much rough labour to perform, were 
too much in a hurrj to conunence the active busi- 
ness of hfe, to be able to devote the time necessary 
to a thorough school and university education. We 
are preparing, gradually, to raise the scale of ed- 
ucation, by prolonging its period. At Yale College, 
no student is received under fifteen, and the requi- 
sites for admission into Harvard University have 
been progressively increased, so that few now enter 
there under that age, — much the larger proportion 
is considerably above it. 

The plan of education in these seminaries, is 
partly that of a school, partly that of an university. 
All the four classes attend recitations before their 
different tutors and professors, as in a school ; and 
also attend the various courses of lectures of the 
professors, as in an university. The recitations are, 
however, most frequent for the freshmen and so- 
phomores ; the juniors and seniors attend to a great- 
er number of lectures. This frequency of recita- 
tion is occasioned principally by the study of the 
languages. The system of education will be more 
complete, when the study of the languages, so far, 
at least, as it is a boyish study, shall be completed 
at school ; and the student, when he comes to the 
university, shall pursue them only under the guid- 
ance of enlarged and philosophic criticism, to relish 
the beauties of the ancient poets, philosophers and 
historians, and form his taste and style on the mo- 
dels they present. The student may then be loosed 
from the trammels of constant recitation, which 



337 

may be compared to the fatigue of sailing in a con- 
voy, where the dullest sailer regulates the speed of 
the whole fleet. If he comes perfectly fitted in the 
grammar, and in rendering the classics, and has got 
through the first stages of some other studies, 
which can hardly be done before sixteen, he will be 
of a suitable age to commence the higher branches 
of learning, — and following the various courses of 
lectures, and studying their subjects at the same 
time, he will advance faster than by the present 
system. Another advantage, also, will be gained ; 
— he will be allowed greater liberty of selectin-r 
the studies most congenial to his taste and destina- 
tion in life. It is one evil attending plans of reci- 
tation, if too far extended, that students are forced 
to give their attention to studies, for which they 
have no degree of capacity, which can be of no 
use to them in their intended career, and for which, 
therefore, they naturally feel a great repugnance, 
and often oblige their instructors to wink at their 
deficiency. A mixture of the two modes of in- 
struction, by recitation and by lectures, seems the 
best, because these recitations are a frequent check 
on the students, and operate, like an examination, 
to secure their attention. The question is on the 
due proportion of each method. 

Harvard College was founded in 1638, and took 
its name from a clergyman, who gave a liberal sum 
to promote it. An establishment of this kind, at 
so early a period, is strongly characteristic of our 
ancestors. The motto of its arms, Christo et Ec- 

43 



338 

elesicB^ points out their leading uiotive,- — to raise 
up ministers of the gospel ; — it has fulfilled their in- 
tentions, by producing several hundred clergymen, 
many of whom were distinguished for their piety and 
their learning. The literature of this country, to 
say nothing of religion and morality, owes more to 
them than to any one or indeed, I may say, all 
the other professions together. At its commence- 
ment, it was under the direction of excellent 
scholars from the English universities, — and as a 
school for the languages, and the divinity of that 
day, it grew at once into eminence. It was always 
a favourite object with our enlightened citizens, to 
increase its prosperity ; and its growth was slow- 
ly, but steadily developing, as the country ad- 
vanced. It continued in a flourishing state up to 
the period of the Kevolution. As a classical school, 
it was not greatly inferior to those of England ; 
and the Latin and Greek poems there produced, on 
the accession of George the Third to the throne, 
may stand a competition with similar effusions from 
the English colleges, on the same occasion. The 
Revolution affected it very sensibly. In that peri- 
od of embarrassment, danger and uncertainty, its 
progress was interrupted, and its interests suffer- 
ed in the general distress of the country. The 
breed of thorough, classical scholars, disappeared, 
-^and we are only now beginning to produce a 
new race, that can vie wntli those who existed 
fifty years ago. What is called learning, in the 



339 

narrow use of the term, received a fatal blow. — 
Those who had it, died without successors ; — the 
course of instruction was broken up, and as there 
were no longer profound masters, there could be only 
superficial scholars. The evils of such an interrup- 
tion are slowly repaired ; — its effects were shown for 
more than a generation. The change has been 
great and animating within a few years ; the pre- 
paratory schools are greatly improved. The re- 
sources of all kinds, the talents, the administration 
of the university, stand much higher, — and if they 
should go on for the next, in the same ratio that 
they have for the last fifteen years, its most zeal- 
ous friends will be amply gratified. 

This institution is a perpetual corporation ; its 
management is vested in three bodies, — called the 
Government^ the Corporatio7i, and the Board of 
iOverseers. The first is composed of the college 
officers ; president, professors, &c., who have the 
care of the immediate police of the university, the 
control of the students, the direction of their studies, 
rewards and punishments, &c. ; the second consists 
of six gentlemen, who have the power of filling 
their own vacancies ; they have the charge of the 
financial concerns of the institution, the choice of 
the president, professors, &c. ; the third is a numer- 
ous body, composed of the executive and senate of 
the state for the time being, certain clergymen of 
Boston or the neighbouring towns, and some other 
gentlemen who have been elected into the body, — 



340 

which consists of more than ei2;hty members. They 
have a negative on the choice of all officers by the 
corporation ; they form an honorary board, who 
have a right of revision, and may resort to it oa 
extreme occasions ; but they sehJom take an active 
part in the concerns of the university. 

The immediate college government is composed 
of the president, professors, tutors and librarian. 
The president is also a member of both the 
other boards : he is not engaged in any branch of 
instruction ; when the person who fills the place is 
a clergyman, he occasionally preaches in the chapel, 
and says the morning and evening prayers. The 
professors are most of them married, and reside in 
their own houses ; the tutors, regents, and proctors, 
have rooms in the college halls, where they can 
exercise a close watchfulness over the students. 
Several of the professors, who are no otherwise 
engaged in the instruction, than by delivering an 
annual course of lectures, reside in the capital, and 
as the distance is only three miles, they can attend 
to their duty without inconvenience. The president 
has a house, and about 3000 dollars a year ; — a 
part of the professors have houses furnished them, 
and their salaries are from five hundred to two 
thousand dollars. The tutors have their rooms, 
and about 800 dollars a year. The professors take 
the following branches, — theology, mathematics, 
and natural philosophy ; oriental languages, anato- 
my, and surgery ; theory and practice of medicine, 
materia medica, chemistry, natural history, rhetoric, 
and oratory ; logic, metaphysics, and ethics ; Latin. 



341 

Greek, Greek literature, sacred literature, and 
jii! iSifrudence ;— on the application of the sciences 
to the arts — natural theolog}^, moral philosophy, 
and civil polity; polite literature and French and 
Spanish languages. In addition to these seventeen 
professors, \vhi(>h are liere placed in the order in 
which the foundations were made, there are two or 
three tutors, librarian, French instructor, &c. 

The professors of latin and greek, of logic and 
metaphysics, do not give lectures, but only hear 
recitations. Many of the other professors only give 
lectures ; some do both. The lectures connected 
with the medical department, are given at Cam- 
bridge, in a way to suit the purposes of those stu- 
dents who may wish to gain some general know- 
ledge in those branches, without intending to devote 
themselves to the profession ; — in the course of 
anatomy, therefore, only some very exquisite wax, 
and other jjreparations, are made use of; — the same 
professors give a course of lectures annually at the 
]\ledical College in Boston, expressly to physicians 
and medical students. Attendance upon some of 
the courses is confined to the two upper classes, 
who pay no particular fee to the professor, and 
other persons may attend them on paying a small 
fee. Taking all these lectures together, 1 doubt 
whether any establishment in the world can boast 
of more ability, on the whole, than will be found 
here. Among the recent professorships, some of 
them are filled by men who were first sent abroad, 
at the expense of the institution, to visit differeni 



342 

parts of Europe, to examine the various systems of 
teaching, and reside for a time at some of the 
principal universities, attend their courses of lectures, 
aivd bring home the knowledge of their forms of 
instruction, tliat we might derive some improvement 
from them all. 

The revenues of the establishment, from all 
sources, amount to more than ;^30,000 a year. The 
property, besides seven edifices of brick, and one 
of stone, which contain a chapel, dining halls, 
libraries, lecture rooms, philosophical and chemical 
instruments, anatomical preparations, and lodging 
rooms, consists in dwelling houses for the instructors, 
and other estates in different places. The library 
is a very valuable, though not very extensive one ; 
it contains upwards of 25,000 volumes, some of 
them books of the most rare description. The 
philosophical apparatus is by far the most elegant 
in the United States, and in the branches of electri- 
city and astronomy, contains many costly and 
beautiful instruments. The chemical laboratory is 
provided, with all that is requisite for experiments, 
after the most recent imjjrovements. The medical 
library and anatomical preparations are extensive. 
The botanic garden was formed with great care and 
expense. There is also a small, but chosen collec- 
tion of minerals, a few pictures, chiefly portraits, 
&c. &c. It must be recollected, that most of these 
things have been obtained very recently. The 
library itself is not more than sixty years old, since 
tlie ancient library was unfortunately burnt in 1760. 



343 

if the number of books could be doubled by a care- 
ful selection, laying aside the innumerable volumes 
that have been superseded by modern discoveries, 
this library would leave very few desiderata for tlie 
lovers of art or science. 

The studies comprise the English, Latin, and 
Greek languages, and Hebrew or French ; one or 
both at the option of the student. History and the 
belles-lettres, and almost every branch of moral and 
physical science, are also taught to all the students. 
The instruction is all public, and there are no pri- 
vate tutors, except occasionally, some individual is 
allowed to give lessons in the languages, &c. The 
students go through an annual examination. There 
are two or three exhibitions, and the annual com- 
mencement, when public exercises are assigned to 
the best scholars, the principal purpose of which, is 
to keep up a spirit of emulation. Students may 
enter any of the classes if they can pass the requi- 
site examination, but they almost all enter fresh- 
men ; two or three perhaps in each class enter 
sophomores, and very rarely in a higher standing. 
It is considered more advantageous, to go through 
the regular period of four years. At the end of 
this time they receive a degree of Bachelor of Arts, 
and three years afterwards, as a matter of course, 
if they apply for it, a degree of Master. The 
number of students is commonly about 250. The 
resident graduates have increased of late years, 
and are now 50 or 60. The expense of an educa- 
tion at this seminary, for lodging and instruction. 



344 

is about one thousand dollars for the whole term of 
four years. The private expenses will be accord- 
ing to the discretion of the parent or g^uardian. 
There are several little aids given to poor scholars, 
to assist them in their necessary disbursements. 

There are some improvements to be made, which 
will tend to raise the character, and enlarge the 
utility of this establishment. One of these is, to 
multiply the imndier of resident graduates. This 
will enlarge the society, and excite sympathy and 
emulation among youns; men whose minds are 
matiu'ed, and who can attend the lectures and 
pursue the particular studies they prefer, without 
the restrictions necessarily imposed on under gra- 
duates. The standard of education will become 
higher, if the three years between the two degrees 
are devoted to a course of liberal study, to accom- 
plishing the mind with general know ledge, before 
it is exclusively given up to one particular profes- 
sion. The studejits in divinity and law, as well as 
all young men whose fortune prevents the necessity 
of their choosing a profession, would be greatly 
benefited by a studious residence here of two or 
three years. The students in medicine are more 
desirous of being in a large town, as their studies 
are so closely connected with practice. The great- 
est number of resident graduates at present are di- 
vinity students ; — the law s(;hool is of recent foun- 
dation ; but it will add very much to the character 
of young men, if they |)ass two or three years at 
Cambridge in the study of polite literature, philoso- 



345 

phy, and the elementary parts of law, before they 
plunge into the narrow details of an attorney's 
practice. 

Another improvement would be, a strict examina- 
tion of the students, before receiving their degrees 
and making honorary distinctions among them, ac- 
cording to their merits, as is done in the English 
universities. These distinctions should be designat- 
ed in the catalogue. As it is, the dull and the neg- 
ligent stand on the same line with the gifted and 
the studious. This would stimulate all emulous 
minds to strive for this permanent mark of distinc- 
tion. The officers of college now very justly com- 
plain, tliat in the last quarter of the senior year the 
student is more listless, and profits less, than in any 
other part of his career. This measure would cer- 
tainly change it, into the most studious and atten- 
tive in the whole period of a college life. 

A branch of instruction, which has been shame- 
fully neglected, (the word, I own, is a harsh one,) 
has been oratory, — or rather, elocution. Every 
person who has attended a college exhibition, would 
see, with disgust, more than half the exhibiters 
speak their parts in such a slovenly, awkward man- 
ner, as would not have been tolerated in a village 
school. Mistaken notions are very prevalent on 
this subject, and because some of the ablest writers 
we possess, have the worst possible delivery, it is 
thought to be of no consequence. But how much 
greater, how much more effective, would the pow- 
er of these speakers be, if, to solid mental ac~ 



346 

quirements and a hapjDj style, they joined a grace- 
ful and impressive delivery. But it is said, that 
a theatrical flourish and display of gesture and 
elocution, would not be tolerated in the senate 
chamber, the pulpit, or the bar. — Certainly they 
would not. A person does not learn to dance, to 
stand always in the first or second position, or to 
move about in a room in the step of a minuet ; — 
but dancing, and the mechanical part of oratory, 
give a man the command of his powers, — make his 
movements supple and easy ; — and dancing and de- 
claiming are useful exercises, chiefly because they 
enable him who has practised them, to walk and 
speak with facility. In this country, of all others, 
where the influence of oratory is so important and 
so universal, it is surprising, such a pernicious neg- 
lect of it should be found. There is a professor- 
ship of rhetoric and oratory, — but its principal 
duties are tiie instruction in the former, in the for- 
mation of style and the theory of speaking. Elo- 
cution must be taught by a master for that particu- 
lar purpose ; — actors are generally the best. In 
France and England there are the persons by whom 
instruction is given to those, who wish to accom- 
plish themselves in the art of speaking and reading. 
I should have felt more reluctance in touching upon 
this subject, if a change was not about taking place. 
The art of speaking has been lately made a public 
exercise ; — honours are awarded to those who 
excel, and a spirit of competition is created, that 
will ameliorate the manner of future orators. 



347 



There is another regulation to be introduced, 
which some consider trifling, perhaps without suffi- 
cient reflection. There is no country, which has 
so utterly discarded all the influence that can be de- 
rived from dress, as the United States. We have 
gone much beyond the Quakers, — for their plainness, 
unvarying fashion, and limiied choice of colours, 
constitute a species of uniform, and keep up a kind 
of starch pretension, very preservative in its tendency« 
But we have renounced all distinctions in dress ; — - 
the bushy wigs, the solemn and the gorgeous robes, 
of other nations and of other times, and a clergy- 
man, a deacon, or a layman ; a judge, an attorney, 
or a witness ; have, in most cases, no distinction of 
apparel. This has, to a certain extent, good conse- 
quences, — though most of the governments in the 
world would think, and probably think right, that 
they could not exist under such a disregard of ex- 
ternals. Still, in some cases, we find it necessary 
to adhere to old customs, and the lessons of expe- 
rience. The first step in military organization, is 
a uniform ; both discipline and the pride of situa- 
tion are found to be essentially promoted by it. 
In most parts of Europe, a uniform is found highly 
uselul in all schools and colleges; — it would be 
attended with good effects, if we were to return to 
it. I say return, because the giving it up was an 
innovation. The ancient academic dress, the black 
gown and square cap, were the original costume of 
the university. This simple, graceful dress, ought 
to be resumed ; — and, as in the English schools and 



348 

colleges, every instructor and student should be 
obliged to wear them at all times, except when 
going out of the town. This would give a uni- 
formity and ennobling appearance, that could not 
fail of some moral influence ; it would contimially 
remind all the wearers of their situation, and Avould 
at least do away the present, promiscuous, street- 
like appearance among the students ; where some 
have the aspect of ridiculous dandies, and others of 
sorry apprentices. With the resumption of this 
ancient dress, I would introduce, (and thus would 
facilitate it) greater general neatness, and particu- 
larly in the aspect of the buildings and courts. It 
is one of the greatest charms of England, that all 
the public institutions, colleges, barracks, &:c. are 
kept with such exquisite order, cleanliness, and 
simple ornament. Something has been done of 
late, but much remains to be done. The exterior 
of most of the buildings has a shabby look ; — they 
should be painted, — the lawns and paths about the 
edifices should be kept neatly trimmed and swept. 
This would have its effect on the tenants, and if 
they could be fixed in a taste for cleanliness and 
neatness in the objects that surround them, to say 
nothing for their own persons ; the acquisition 
would not be the less useful, that they could carry 
back and propagate it, by their example, over different 
parts of the country. I am aware that these topics 
may appear trivial to some ; — men v. ho are deeply 
incrusted with collegiate learning, are a])t to con- 
sider such things trifles ; they serve, however, to 



349 

decorate and give effect to solid things. I think in 
this, as in several other places, the counsel which 
Plato gave to Xenocrates, when he advised him 
to sacrifice to the Graces, might be usefully incul- 
cated. 

With regard to discipline, the grand difficulty of 
our country in civil, military and collegiate life, 
this university has not been W'ithout its trials ; yet 
these have been less violent, and not more frequent, 
than have happened in other seminaries of the 
Union. The government generally is very leni- 
ent, but very firm ; if the courser chooses to take 
the bit between his teeth, and run aside, there is no 
curb to prevent him. They are governed principal- 
ly by their good feelings, — not merely by the loss 
of college honours and advantages, but by their re- 
gard for their friends. If a student perseveres in a 
wrong course, the parent is written to, and he is 
made to conform, by the influence of parental au- 
thority. Rebellions occasionally happen, and sum- 
mary punishments are inflicted, in the shape of 
fines, temporary banishment, or total expulsion. 
The youth have all their feathers erect on these 
occasions, and strut and crow for an hour or two ; 
in the mean time the public smile, — the govern- 
ment eliminate two or three of the most turbulent, 
and order is restored. These diminutive events are 
what the empress of Russia, speaking of the trou- 
bles at Geneva, called " a storm in a wine-glass." 
On the whole, it is highly honourable to the cha- 
racter of our youth ; — it proves their ingenuousness, 



350 

-and the good order of their homes, to find how well 
thej behave under the slight restrictions imposed 
upon them. When some persons lament that the 
system of discipline is not more rigid and severe, 
they do not sufficiently reflect on the nature of the 
government under which we live ; a state of free- 
dom that presumes so much on the good conduct 
of the citizen. Young men are prepared for such 
a form of society, by the absence of all coruse re- 
straint ; they are kept to their duty by principles of 
affection and propriety ; — they acquire the habit of 
self-government, and voluntary moderation. If 
they were restrained by high walls and grated win- 
dows, by vigilant watching, and underwent severe 
penances and personal punishments; they would be 
let out from such a place of education, very unpre- 
pared for the state of society in which they are to 
act. 

There is another point, on which some prejudice 
and misapprehension exist in the minds of the pub- 
lic. The religious doctrines that are taught in the 
theological department, have excited ill-will near 
home, and alarm at a distance, in some persons 
who have a bigoted hatred of every thing that 
does not accord with their creed. But little danger 
is to be apprehended for the general student on 
this account. He is not called upon to be a very 
great proficient in theology ; and the college gov- 
ernment preach and practise toleration. The ser- 
mons in the University Chapel, are a series of lec- 
tures on the doctrines of Christianity. But there 



351 

is an Episcopal church, where the students are al- 
lowed to go, if their parents should prefer it» 
Perhaps, for theological students, who are intended 
for the orthodox career, the experiment of attend- 
ing these lectures might be dangerous, unless their 
principles and their conviction were very clear 
and steady ; if they were so, even students of this 
kind might derive great benefit from some of the 
very able lectures on theology and sacred criticism, 
which they would have an opportunity of hearing. 

This institution, as has been already remarked, 
was originally founded for religious purposes ; and 
clergymen have always had a chief share in its 
management. For a long period it continued a 
nursery of Calvinistic teachers. When this faith, 
which for a series of years had been gradually re- 
lenting, at length lost its hold altogether, in the 
minds of the congregational clergy in this vicinity ; 
it was a matter of course, that the University which 
was so much under their government, should come 
under the influence of what are called liberal 
opinions. The Calvinists repaired this defection at 
once, with their accustomed energy and zeal ; and 
established a theological colh^ge at Andover, and 
obtained twice as many students for their youthful 
establishment, as this university possessed in the 
theological department, with all its learning and 
other advantages. 

The government of the university expressly pro- 
test against being considered as exclusively under 
the dominion of any sect. The object of the theo- 



352 

logical department, is to give general instruction in 
the doctrines of religion and of the truth and im- 
portance of Christianity, but not in connexion with 
any particular creed, though the general tendency 
is undoubtedly Unitarian. They do not pretend to 
act as propagandists, nor can they with any great 
effect ; since no two of these gentlemen agree in all 
points of belief: there is no written creed, no plat- 
form established ; the progress towards Unitarian- 
ism has been gradual ; it has been openly avowed 
but by very few, till lately. There probably never 
can be any fixed system, when once the artificial, 
yet settled ground of orthodoxy, is abandoned ; peo- 
ple who commit themselves to the stream, are borne 
about by various currents and eddies of opinion, and 
it is very uncertain where they will land at last. 
They will be necessarily scattered. The libera! 
school is in its very nature innovating and fluctuating, 
and the question about believing too much or too lit- 
tle will never be decided. Such a school of divinity 
can never have a very wide spread ; but it will 
doubtless be productive of great learning and inge- 
nuity, and its liberality and courage will counteract 
the establishment of the most odious of all tyranny, 
the domination of a religious sect. 

The government is well aware, that it must act 
in a Catholic spirit, to promote the interests com- 
mitted to them. Many of the contributors to its 
funds are Episcopalians, or others of the orthodox 
classes. The state, which hasl^een a liberal patron, 
is filled with different sects, who look to this semi- 



353 

nary as a noble school for general learning, and not 
as devoted to the interests of any sect or party. 
The proportion of young men who resort to it for 
an education, who are destined for other professions 
than theology, has been steadily growing larger; 
and it is as a school, where every branch of litera- 
ture and science will be cultivated and taught ; in 
fine, as an university, that the public regard it, and 
by these considerations, the views of those w^ho 
govern it are and must be directed. 

Its emancipation from the control of a proselyting 
sect, is certainly a subject of congratulation. Else, 
its wide capacity would be narrowed to the pur- 
poses of a religious party ; it would then be a bed 
where no man could repose, before his opinions 
were drawn out, or cut down, till they fitted. A 
professor could not then be chosen without a first 
regard to his religious creed, and a secondary one, 
to his talents. The question would be, in such 
seminaries, not whether he was a first rate scholar, 
a man of profound science ; but whether he was a 
Trinitarian or a Unitarian ; whether he believed 
in the infallibility of the Pope, or Calvin. Fortu- 
nately, this university stands on broader ground ; it 
will possess always an able school of theological 
learning and biblical criticism ; and will, without 
doubt, continue to furnish a succession of learned 
and pious clergymen ; but its chief reputation will 
arise from its being a distinguished, fruitful reposi- 
tory of all good learning. 
45 



354 



LETTER XV. 



THE TOWN OF BOSTON. 



My Dear Friend, 

You asked me to give you a description of Bos- 
ton and of its inhabitants ; a place which you have 
never yet visited, though it is but little more than 
eight hundred miles from your own residence, and 
people of both sexes, and of all ages, come a much 
greater distance every summer, to leave their cards. 
A few hundred miles, which would carry a travel- 
ler out of the limits of some empires, can hardly be 
remarked on the extensive map of our country ; 
which, if colossal size were the only measure of 
greatness, would find few competitors to look it in 
the face, even by standing tiptoe, — but as it is, we 
too often find it productive of inconvenience, and 
when it separates friends so far, we wish its limits 
were more restricted ; — however, as it is daily en- 
larging, not, I trust, " like the circle in the water," 
we may as well cease our regrets on this point. 
Perhaps my description may induce you to come, 
though I might be led into great exaggerations, 
if I thought so ; but as I fear you will never gratify 
the friends who would give you such a cordial wel- 



355 

come, I shall try to make out a plain matter of fact 
account. I am willing, however, to caution you 
against my partiality, and that this sketch should 
be received, as coming from a native Cockney. 

Boston is situated at the bottom of Massachusetts 
bay, on a capacious and excellent harbour, distant 
from the sea about ten miles, from whose waves it 
is sheltered by a groupe of islands, of various sizes 
and appearance. Three small rivers, the Charles, 
Mystic, and Neponset, navigable for only five or 
six miles, empty into these waters, and the first 
washes the towns on the north and west. The 
town itself, and two of its suburbs, Charlestown 
and South Boston, stand on three peninsulas, 
which form the western, northern, and southern 
sides of the inner harbour. The neck of each of 
these peninsulas is low and narrow, over which the 
tide formerly flowed. Each of these districts, 
which collectively contain less than three thousand 
acres, is variegated in its surface with gentle slopes 
and hills of moderate height. The surrounding 
country exhibits a variegated appearance ; smooth 
meadows, gently swelling hills, and small valleys, 
presenting undulating lines of the most pleasing 
variety, covered with villages, country seats, farm- 
houses, orchards, groves, and a cultivation, that 
gives a smiling aspect to the whole landscape. 

There are no sublime features in this scenery, 
except the view of the ocean, which is obtained 
from almost every rising ground ; but all the traits 
of beauty are profusely scattered. There are no 



356 

majestic mountains, no fearful precipices ; the high- 
est land, called the Blue Hills, about eight miles 
south from the town, rises between seven and eight 
hundred feet. A striking circumstance in the to- 
pography of this district, is the endless number and 
variety of pleasing views it offers. The tide flows 
around these islands, peninsulas, and points of land, 
forming so many little straits and coves, and running 
up these small rivers and creeks, in such a serpen- 
tine course, that the land and water are every 
where blended together : in addition, there are 
several line brooks, and many beautiful ponds of 
fresh water, which makes it almost impossible to 
find a view, that is not embellished by some sheet 
of water. The town itself, which is visible from 
the neighbouring eminences for many miles in every 
direction, comes in to give richness to the scene. 
The surface on which it is built is so irregular ; 
there are so many steeples and turrets ; the varied 
colour of its dwellings reflected and contrasted by 
the smooth surface of the water, that almost encircles 
it ; the sort of coquettish negligence with which it 
seems flung over its hills for display ; all combine 
to make its exterior more imposing and picturesque 
than any other city in the Union, though it is but 
the fourth in magnitude. To point out all the 
beautiful views would be in vain ; where every 
little eminence you ascend, and almost every turn 
you take, oflers a new picture. 

Several country seats are so placed, as to com- 
mand delightful prospects. It would form a long 



357 

list to enumerate them all ; but I will answer for it, 
that any of your friends who will bring letters from 
you, will find a ready access to them. I will only 
mention three views which are on the highway, 
and are very different, and all possessing, in a very 
high degree, grandeur, and beauty. The first is 
on a hill, about six miles from town, over which 
the Concord turnpike passes ; the next is on Mil- 
ton-hill, about the same distance ; and the third is 
on a hill in Maiden, over which the Newbury turn- 
pike passes, about a mile from the bridge. A great 
deal of the effect in landscape, as well as in paint- 
ings, depends on the manner in which the light is 
thrown ; in these three that I have mentioned, the 
most favourable moments for seeing them are an 
hour or two before sunset. You may conclude, 
that these environs must possess remarkable beauty, 
when it has been observed, by more than one intel- 
ligent foreigner, whose opinions must be free from 
local partiality, that, Naples excepted, there is no 
spot in Europe can equal it. 

Nor does this scenery depend on its natural beau- 
ties alone, to give pleasure. There are many de- 
lightful places in our country, that have no other 
charm but their own loveliness to attract the specta- 
tor ; and being wholly unconnected with any his- 
torical events, create no associations that occupy 
the mind. But it is far otherwise here. Inde- 
pendently of many events in early history, the 
American Revolution has immortalized the spot. 
Here first began, in words and writing, resist- 
ance to oppression, and here that resistance was 



358 

first sealed in blood. Every hill, every point of 
land around the town, is still crowned with the first 
breast-works of the Revolution. Lexington and 
Bunker-hill are parts of the landscape. It is the 
classic ground of American patriotism and valour, 
and the interest it excites, must increase with all 
succeeding ages. 

On entering the town, the traveller does not find 
its interior equal to the expectations he will have 
entertained from its appearance at a distance. It 
is very irregular, many of the streets are narrow 
and winding. It has more the aspect of an Euro- 
pean town, than any other city in America. The 
buildings are, many of them, of wood, but some of 
these are neat and even elegant, from being neatly 
painted, and from their style of architecture. Build- 
ings of this material, more than ten feet high, have 
been prohibited by law for some years ; of course 
their number is decreasing by fires and decay. 
This salutary law was not passed, till the town had 
suffered repeatedly from extensive conflagrations. 
The greatest number of buildings are now of brick. 
Of late years it has become the practice to build 
with stone, and there are several public and private 
edifices of this material. The stone employed is a 
fine light-coloured granite, which is found at 
Chelmsford, on the Middlesex canal, about twenty 
miles distant. Many of the houses have gardens 
attached to them, and a small piece of grass in 
front, with an open raiUng. This relieves the nar- 
rowness of the streets ; and the number of trees 



359 

break up the dull masses of brick very agreeably. 
Some of the modern streets are straight and suffi- 
ciently spacious. There are many large and elegant 
houses scattered in different parts. As the streets 
are not on a flat plain, but run over the hills, they 
present some picturesque views. The commercial 
part of the town has a better appearance, and is 
more convenient than in any of our cities : there 
are three noble wharves parallel to each other, with 
rows of warehouses their whole length, having 
spacious open docks for the vessels to unload, with 
every accommodation. Two of these wharves, all 
their buildings, and some adjoining streets, were 
produced by one individual,* who has done more to 
improve the town, than any other fifty men it ever 
possessed. 

The town is, generally speaking, very clean, and 
three or four of the streets may be called beautiful. 
Forty years ago it had but one entrance ; since then, 
four bridges, from live to eight hundred yards in 
length, have been constructed, and a solid causeway, 
of more than a mile and a half, is now making, 
which will open a noble approach to the finest part 
of the town. Its handsomest feature is the common, 
and the mall which surrounds it. — This is a charm- 
ing piece of ground nearly a mile in circumference ; 
it has fine houses, two churches, and the state-house, 
on four of its sides, and on the fifth, an extensive 
bay of Charles' River, bounded by an amphitheatre 

* Urial\ Cotting, Esq. since dccensed. 



360 

of hills, forming an exquisite prospect. On the 
side of the town next the harbour there is an emi- 
nence, called Fort-hill, on which there is a pretty 
circular walk, commanding a view of the harbour, 
the shipping, and the islands. But the great orna- 
ment and boast of the town, is the common before 
mentioned ; this is superior to any other walk in the 
United States, and there are few in any part of the 
world, for which less has been done by art, or more 
by nature. 

The site on which Boston was built, was called, 
by the Indians, Shawmut. It was first called, by 
the whites, Tremont, or Trimount, from the pre- 
dominance of three conspicuous hills ; afterwards 
called Boston, out of compliment to a clergyman 
much beloved, who came over from Boston in 
England. The founder of Boston was Mr. John- 
stone, a Lincolnshire gentleman, who resided with 
his wife, the Lady Arabella, daughter of the Earl 
of Lincoln, somewhere in the street now called 
Tremont-Street, and was the first person buried in 
the chapel burying-ground. Our antiquities are 
merely degrees of infancy compared with the cities 
of Europe ; while in respect to some of the towns 
that sprung up last year, or last week, in various parts 
of the Union, they claim a most venerable seniority. 
Owing to the early habit of constructing with wood, 
there are a few buildings more than a century old, 
and not many even of that age. The oldest is a 
dwelling house in Tremont-street, built by the 
celebrated Sir Henry Vane, about 150 years since, 



361 

and this is probably the most ancient dwelling in 
the United States ; it has been modernized, but is 
still a substantial, handsome house. 

From its central position, in regard to an extensive 
sea-coast, on which the first settlements were made, 
Boston soon grew to be a place of some note, and 
gradually became the largest town in all the colonies ; 
and it continued to be so nearly to the period of the 
Revolution. It was the centre of the fisheries and 
of ship-building, the main sources of its prosperity, 
up to the epoch of our present government. The 
lucrative commerce which has been carried on for 
the last thirty years, has produced an immense 
accession of wealth to the town, as well as the 
neighbouring country. Of its former sources of 
wealth, the building of vessels and the fisheries, the 
first is diminished really, and the latter relatively. 
Its foreign commerce, and the mart it has become 
for home manufactures, are now the chief sources 
of its wealth. 

The population was, for a long time, the highest 
of any town on the continent : — New-York, Phila- 
delphia, and Baltimore, now greatly surpass it. 
But in the returns of the population, there are some 
circumstances that should be borne in mind, to form 
a just estimate of the relative resources of these 
places. Boston is limited to a very narrow terri- 
tory ; its proper suburbs belong to other places. 
It has numerous towns in its vicinity, many of 
them older than itself, and all of which have had a 
steady, gradual increase. The other cities incorpo- 
46 



rate a large territory, and there are few towns, or 
even villages, in their vicinity. Boston contains 
only 43,000 people ; New- York and Philadelphia 
three times that number ; but if the population 
within a square of thirty miles, including Boston, 
be counted, all of which has its centre of business 
in that place, and with which a very active daily 
intercourse is kept up, it would probably be nearly 
equal to that of any similar extent in the United 
States. 

Its importance, however, was only in part owing 
to its trade, or the amount of its population. It 
was the character of that population from the be- 
ginning which excited the respect of its neighbours, 
and made it the capital of opinion, as well as com- 
merce, to all New-England. The early establish- 
ment of Harvard College ; the general diffusion of 
education ; the high religious feeling which pervaded 
the community, and the learned clergymen who 
made this place the focus of that feeling ; the stern 
spirit of independence; the unrelenting watchfulness 
over their political rights ; the great ability and rigid 
virtue of the early magistrates ; the elevation of 
mind, which made them esteem all other considera- 
tions subordinate to the maintenance of their reli- 
gious freedom and their political rights, were among 
the circumstances, which contributed essentially to 
the respectability of this capital. 

This kind of character, followed by the influence 
it would naturally command, was steadily main- 
tained, with some diminution of austerity, perhaps. 



363 

in religion, in the last generation ; but tlie whole 
amount was not lessened, for an additional portion 
of severe vigilance was given to politics. The con- 
sequences were shown in the period between 1760 
and 1 776. When the coercive scheme of finance, 
that produced our emancipation, was attempt- 
ed to be put into execution, its first approaches, its 
most indirect and concealed attempts, were here 
first met and unmasked. A discussion has arisen 
in the United States about who first proposed the 
Revolution ; — this is a mere question of curiosit}^ 
the solution of which is almost as easy as to tell 
which portion of water, in an impetuous stream, 
came out of a particular fountain. The current of 
public opinion arose imperceptibly, — ^it increased 
gradually, — was swollen by a thousand rivulets, 
and fed at once from sources beneath, and with 
drops from heaven. Boston was first called upon 
to act and suffer ; — the former Avas performed with 
energy, — the latter with firmness. The British 
ministry, though they had not contemplated the 
end of their measures with accuracy, knew where 
to begin. They laid their whole weight of power 
on this devoted town, in the first instance. Its 
skilful and heroic resistance, from the first insinua- 
tion of an arbitrary principle in a governor's speech, 
to the defiance and defeat of naval and military 
forces, excited the sympathy ; and gave time for the 
whole country to prepare for the explosion of a 
general contest. Their conduct excited the atten- 
tion of the world at the time so much, that Boston 



364 

only was talked of, as if the whole effort at resist- 
ance was made by them ; — and Americans were 
then, in France, often called BosionianSy the term 
by which they are designated in Canada to this 
day.* 

It is natural that the citizens of a town, whose 
hall for public meetings has been called " the cra- 
dle of the Revolution," whose name is associated 
with so many great events, and so honourably en- 
rolled in history, should feel a pride in belonging to 
it. This is cherished by the nature of their institu- 
tions, which are highly remarkable. This town 
(for it is not a city) is, perhaps, the most perfect, 
and certainly the best regulated democracy, that 
ever existed. There is something so imposing in 
the immortal fame of Athens, that the very name 
makes every thing modern shrink from comparison ; 
but since the days of that glorious city, I know of 
none that has approached so near in some points, 
distant as it may still be from that illustrious 
model. The cities of Italy, in the middle ages, the 
Hanse towns, Geneva, and others, were called re- 
publics ; — but they have been under the government 

* A game of cards was invented at Versailles, and called iu honourof the town, 
Boston; tlie points of the game are z]\\\?\\e,— great independence, little indepen- 
dence, great misery, little misery, S(C. It was composed partly of whist, and partly 
of quadrille, thoupji partnkiiig most of the former. As it is almost unknown ia 
this country, it may be of use to persons who amuse themselves in this way to 
know, that this is the most interesting game that is plavej. It is still partially in 
use in France, but in every circle in the -lorlh of Europe, from Amsterdam to St. 
Petersh.irgh, Boston is ')i>w almost the exclusive game. — A work has been re- 
cently published in France, called Boston de Flore, its object is to illustrate 
bolrtiiy by a kind of cards. 



365 

of an aristocracy, or in a state of anarchy. Boston 
has never, like these, possessed sovereign power ; 
but it has essentially contributed to the establish- 
ment of the noblest sovereignty in the world, and 
has generally possessed a wider influence, than 
these puny states. It cannot yet boast of the mag- 
nificence of Athens, or even of some of these 
modern cities, — it is not yet two centuries old, and 
in a country no older than itself — but if its citizens 
do not become recreant, — if its future manhood 
should not belie the promises of youth, — when time 
shall have swept over it as many ages, as it has 
over the Acropolis, the recollections it will leave 
will not be inferior. Let me return, however, from, 
these excursions into the past and the future, to 
consider only the present. 

This place now contains a population of 43,000. 
It is, and always has been, a simple, pure, unmixed 
democracy, but without any sovereign power, form- 
ing part of the state of which it is the capital. 
All its officers are annually chosen, and all its con- 
cerns, financial as well as others, are acted upon by 
the whole people, in public town-meeting. Every 
inhabitant has a right to vote and speak on all sub- 
jects, — and this right is exercised by individuals of 
every class. The choice of officers, and other town 
affairs, takes place on certain fixed days, every year. 
But public town meetings are held, from time to 
time, on various subjects of general concern ; and the 
selectmen, who are charged with the government of 
the town, must call one whenever a requisition for tlie 



S66 

purpose is signed by a certain number of citizens. 
These selectmen answer to a court of aldermen, 
but there is no officer corresponding to a mayor. 
These municipal officers, excepting the chairman, 
who has a small salary, have no pay, no particular 
costume, and no guards of any kind, except, on 
public meetings, w hen one or two constables are in 
attendance, and serve as messengers, &c. 

These public assemblies are called for various 
purposes, — frequently for political ones, in times of 
agitation, when public measures are discussed, and 
resolutions passed, according to the will of the 
majority. Public notice is given some days previ- 
ously, — the selectmen are obliged to be in attend- 
ance, but the person who is to preside over the 
meetings is taken from among the citizens ; any 
person has a right to nominate, and the choice is 
immediately decided by a hand vote. The person 
chosen takes the chair, is called a moderator, and 
has no other visible protection for his authority, than 
what the good sense of the citizens always accords 
to his discretion and impartiality.* The parlia- 
mentary form of addressing the chair, and not the 
body of the assembly, is adhered to, and this is a 
great restraint on the passions, both of the speaker 
and the hearers. The speaking is not confined to 
professional men, or to the richer classes, but peo- 
ple in every walk of life may, and do, take a part. 
A sturdy demagogue will sometimes obstinately 

* Persons exhibiting riotous conduct are amenable to the law. 



367 

hold his way in these debates, to the annoyance or 
the amusement of the meeting, but generally they 
are men of ability who attempt to harangue. Such 
assemblies must furnish a good school for popular 
oratory, and excellent speakers have been, from 
time to time, produced by them. The most perfect 
order reigns in these primary assemblies ; — it is 
rare, indeed, that any indecorum, either of word or 
gesture, is offered, and if it should happen, is sure 
to meet with general reprobation. I have been pre- 
sent at these meetings, when from three to four 
thousand people were assembled, among whom a 
strong personal excitement existed in regard to the 
question at issue ; and although the assembly was 
nearly equally divided, yet the subject was discus- 
sed with less violence, and more quiet in the audi- 
ence, than I have seen in many debates in the 
British House of Commons. Habit, self-respect, 
from the consciousness of freedom, and the degree 
of general information that prevails among the peo- 
ple, combine to produce this remarkable order and 
good conduct, which are strongly shown on the 
days of election. The annual election of the go- 
vernor of the state is, generally, a close struggle, 
when parties run high, which they have done for 
the last thirty years. Every kind of effort, in 
speaking and writing, is made use of for some 
weeks before, to rouse the electors in favour of their 
respective candidates. The whole mass sometimes 
take a lively interest in the event, and yet, on the 
dav of election, near six thousand ballots are given 



368 

in Faneuil Hall, between the hours of nine and 
three o'clock ; — every individual, as he hands in 
his vote to the selectmen, is checked by a com- 
mittee, composed of the opposite parties ; — no in- 
stance has been known of the slightest hustling, 
disorder, or riot of any kind, — and the ordinary 
business of the citizens is uninterrupted. A stran- 
ger, who wants to understand our character, should 
attend some of these assemblies. 

Among the public institutions, there are two 
which deserve particular notice. The first is a mili- 
tary company, which was incorporated in the com- 
mencement of the colony, to form a school for offi- 
cers ; but religious feelings were strongly united 
with military ones, in its establishment. It now 
contains between one and two hundred members, 
who are, or have been, almost every one of them, 
officers, either in the regular service or in the 
militia ; — of course, among the privates, are gene- 
rals, colonels, &c. The original intention was, 
that this should be a school for military discipline 
and instruction, — and that they should keep in 
mind their duty to religion, so as to form a corps 
of Christian soldiers. For this purpose, their anni- 
versary is publicly celebrated, — the governor, and 
other persons in civil authority, attending it, and 
going in procession to church, where an appropriate 
sermon is preached to them, on the joint duties of 
the Christian and the soldier. After this annual 
sermon they have a dinner in Faneuil Hall, to 
which a large number of guests are invited ; — and 



369 

in the afternoon, the company escort the governor 
to the Common, where he receives the insignia of 
the officers for the past year, and confers them on 
those who have been elected to their places. A 
short speech is made on giving and receiving these 
commissions. This company is now on a respecta- 
ble footing, but perhaps more might be made of it. 
Their anniversary, however, affords one of the pret- 
tiest fetes we have. It is called the Artillery Elec- 
tion, and takes place in the month of June, and on 
this occasion, eight or ten thousand people are col- 
lected, to see the ceremonies in the Common. In 
this, as in many other cases, the spectators them- 
selves afford the most pleasing spectacle. 

The annual visitation of the schools is another 
ceremony that is worthy of notice. The care of 
the public schools is given to a few gentlemen, an- 
nually elected, who are called the school commit- 
tee ; — they, with the selectmen, have the charge of 
all that relates to public instruction. There is a 
yearly visitation of all these schools by the school 
committee and selectmen, accompanied by the 
clergy, some of the principal citizens, strangers of 
distinction, &c. wdio are invited on this occa- 
sion. After the examination is gone through, 
all the boys who have distinguished themselves in 
the different schools, with their masters, join the 
procession, and the whole company partake of a 
handsome dinner in Faneuil Hall. The appearance 
of this company is peculiar; — these children, their 
countenances glowing with the distinction they 



370 

have acquired, are here seated at a public feast, 
with the most venerable and dignified citizens of 
the town. They are here introduced, for the first 
time, into the hall, where their fathers maintained 
the rights of their country, and which they may 
hereafter be called upon to support. After the 
cloth is removed, the children place themselves as 
they please, and are scattered about the hall for 
some time in various groupes ; while the company 
are listening to songs, and drinking toasts, enjoy- 
ing, with a moderate hilarity, a festival, in which 
all the finest feelings of the parent and the citizen 
are deeply interested. After a while the masters 
assemble them, a march is played, they make the 
tour of the Hall in regular files ; the company all 
rise and stand till they leave the room when a burst 
of applause breaks out, which vibrate on the ears 
and hearts of the boys as they depart. This mix- 
ture of infancy and age, this public honour paid to 
education, this stimulating reward to childish merit, 
the sparkling pleasure of the young, and the mild 
satisfaction of the aged, — the introduction of these 
boys into the public forum, where they are hereafter 
to discharge their duty as citizens, presents, alto- 
gether, one of the most pleasing, and certainly the 
most republican festival, I ever witnessed. 

The town is not deficient in the means of amuse- 
ment. Those of a quiet, intellectual kind, are the 
most numerous. Libraries and reading-rooms are 
of this description. There are one or two of the lat- 
ter near the ^;xchange, where all the principal news- 
papers of the continent are filed, and where all 



371 

commercial intelligence is regularly entered. There 
are book-stores, well supplied with a miscellaneous 
collection, and places of call for literary loungers. 
There are several public libraries, which, though 
not extensive, are the foundations that may support 
goodly superstructures ; each of the professions, 
law, medicine, and divinity, have one. But the 
chief establishment is the Athenaeum. This is 
already a considerable institution, and wants little 
now, except a suitable building, to develope its 
utility. It has a library of about 12,000 volumes, 
many of them elegant and valuable books ; these 
are not allow^ed to be taken away, but the room is 
alwa}^ open for their perusal. An apartment below 
contains the chief periodical works of the United 
States and of Great Britain ; the principal news- 
papers of both countries, and most of the pam- 
phlets and new books of our own country. Occa- 
sionally there are some German and French jour- 
nals, but they are not received regularly. — In the 
same rooms are very complete series of all the 
American periodical works, and also of some 
French and English journals, from their first estab- 
lishment. A good building, and a small increase 
of funds for the purchase of new publications, and 
the principal periodical works of the continent of 
Europe, would make it very perfect. Persons of 
a literary taste have, from time to time, an oppor- 
tunity of hearing public lectures. There are also 
several literary clubs, where the chief pleasure is 
conversation, though some written dissertation is 



STZ 

the duly of each member in turn : a stranger, witii 
suitable introduction, may easily have access to all 
these places. 

Tliere is a theatre open three times a week, from 
October to May, in whicli the performances, taken 
generally, are equal, if not superior, to the best 
English provincial theatres. There is a circus for 
equestrian performances, singing, &c. — We have 
public balls, and public concerts, at intervals ; they 
were formerly kept up regularly, but as the society 
grew larger, they were attended with inconvenien- 
ces. You may recollect an impromptu of a cele- 
brated Scotch wit, Harry Erskine, to the Dutchess 
of Gordon, who told him, " that she would not go 
" to the races ; she thought they would be dull, and 
" there would be nothing worth seeing : 

" Not go, — that is, as if the sun should say, 

" It's a cold cloudy morn } I will not rise to-day." 

Well, so it was here ; those who formed the sun- 
shine of these parties shrunk back, and the clouds 
would not assemble, unless they were illuminated. 
AVe now have these public parties only on particular 
occasions ; but the private ones are the more nume- 
rous in consequence. 

A strar^ger who comes properly introduced, (and 
the error here is on the side of facility, rather than 
strictness,) may pass his time very pleasantly. He 
must not look, however, for the licentious pleasures 
of great capitals ; our resources in this way are for- 
tunately inferior, to what may be found in many 
cities of the same size. But if he has a robust con- 



SIS 

stitution, and can bear the good dinners and excel- 
lent wines that will be offered him ; if he has a 
taste for easy, social intercourse, great simplicity of 
manners, to the almost entire exclusion of what is 
mere etiquette ; if he is fond of cards, and can be 
satisfied with a party at whist without high play ; 
if he has a taste for literary or scientific discussion ; 
in short, if he is fond of rational and moderate en- 
joyments, and a pervading domestic tone of life, he 
may certainly be gratified. 

Our population is very little mixed ; it is native 
of the spot, or transferred from various parts of the 
eastern states, whose origin was similar. It has 
grown so gradually, that the inhabitants are more 
known to each other ; and aided by the peculiar 
form of government, their mutual dependence is 
more intimately felt, than in most towns. This 
prevents the wealthy from being arrogant, and the 
poor from being turbulent. There is hardly any 
such thing as mere populace in the town. It is not 
a manufacturing town, and is therefore without the 
kinds of crowds that such towns exhibit. It is, 
however, a great depot for manufactures, produced 
in its vicinity, and the sale of these, and an exten- 
sive foreign and domestic trade, furnish the chief 
employment to the inhabitants. It is an orderly, 
quiet place, which effect is produced more by the 
character of the people, than by the vigour of the 
police, of which there is very little. There are 
two or three festival days in the course of the year, 
when there are military parades, and a great con- 



374 

course of people are collected ; yet there is no riot, 
no disorder ; even drunkenness is rarely seen, and the 
streets are as quiet on the evening of such a day, 
as on any other. A very great improvement has 
taken place in these respects, within the period of 
the present generation. 

There is a great deal of wealth in this commu- 
nity ; most of it is employed in commerce, but 
much of it is in the hands of people who do not 
engage very actively in trade ; though as bankers, 
insurers, or adventurers in distant voyages, they take 
some share in business, merely as an occupation, 
and to have an excuse for going to the Exchange, 
that they may talk over the various news of the 
day. There are some individuals who have colos- 
sal fortunes ; there are many who have liberal ones ; 
and a still greater number, who obtain, from diffe- 
rent pursuits, an easy, moderate competence. There 
is very little ostentation, and no extravagant display 
of luxury. The richest men are not those who 
spend the most ; their scale of expense does not ex- 
ceed what men of moderate fortune may reach, by 
whom indeed they are often surpassed. It often 
happens, in every part of the world, that the own- 
ers of great wealth seem to have undergone some 
mental process, by which they become as secure 
keepers of it, as the guards of the Seraglio of what 
is intrusted to them. Here, however these mode- 
rate habits may have a fortunate tendency ; they 
keep down luxury, and a spirit of rivalry in expense, 



375 

that would be followed with the most deleterious 
consequences, both to individuals and to society. 

There is a large number of persons who have 
had a liberal education ; and who, amidst all the 
occupation of professional or commercial busitiess, 
still retain some tincture of it. Every man enrolls 
himself with some particular class, because there 
are none who are willing to be put down with the 
hog, described by Dr. Franklin's negro, — he no 
ivork — he eat — he drink — he sleep — he walk about 
— he lib like a gentleman. There are many young 
men possessed of competence, who go into a count- 
ing-house, or to some professional study, even with- 
out engaging actively in the profession they have 
acquired. The greatest number of these study the 
law, and are admitted to the bar, but never practise 
to any extent. They correspond in some respects 
to the class of men which existed in France, before 
the Revolution, called Abbes; and bear the same 
proportion to an active lawyer, that an abbe did to 
a priest. It is, however, in the one case as the 
other, a condition : they are in the way of prefer- 
ment, amusing their minds, in the mean time, with 
literature or other pursuits. 

The people of this town are great travellers ; it 
would be difficult to find a society of half a dozen, 
of the class who change their linen every day, in 
which some, if not most of the party, have not 
visited Europe. Commercial pursuits have led a 
great many ; almost every body has been to En- 
srland. The natural desire, in liberal and intelli- 



376 

gent minds, of seeing Europe, of which, Iroiu their 
infancy, they have heard so much, inspires a rest- 
less, enlightened curiosity, to visit regions so fa- 
mous. Nor is this confined to men alone, but 
both sexes have enjoyed the advantage of travelling 
in an unusual degree. You might find a large cir- 
cle of both sexes, who have not only seen London 
and Paris, but Rome and Naples. Of late years, 
some of our young men have travelled with the most 
liberal views, and under the greatest advantages, 
and we have a small number of these who have 
not stopped with Italy, but have been on a classic 
pilgrimage to Greece. If no other good is pro- 
duced, the subjects of conversation in society, are 
thus rendered more amusing and instructive. 

One result of so much travelling, has been to 
diffuse a taste for the arts. The encouragement 
they receive is not indeed splendid, but it is pro- 
gressive. We have produced some artists of emi- 
nence, and for several years have had one or two 
residing here constantly. There are some small 
collections of pictures belonging to individuals, 
which are at least equal to the average of collec- 
tions. There is too, a right feeling on this score ; 
we rather seek to reward a living artist, than to 
give an extravagant price for old pictures. Most of 
our gentlemen feel a pride in having some works of 
our own artists hanging in their parlours ; every 
new performance aids in the diffusion of refine- 
ment. In the other arts, we have hardly any thing 
to show. In sculpture, we have nothing but here 



377 

and there a bust. This art will be awakened 
among us, when we think we are rich enough to 
erect monuments or cenotaphs, to departed great- 
ness. For music, we have more fondness than 
skill ; our musicians and actors are all foreigners ; 
our young men seldom pla,y on any instrument, and 
though no one would wish to see them a race of 
fiddlers, yet the practice of music would fill up 
many hours innocently, that are now spent in 
vicious or stupifying indolence. Sacred music, 
from the universal habit of attending public wor- 
ship, is a good deal cultivated, but too generally in 
a bad taste ; there are two or three musical socie- 
ties, who have regular meetings for vocal and in- 
strumental music. As every man now-a-days 
wears a watch, whatever may be the value of his 
time, and every lady a parasol, whatever may be 
the shade of her complexion ; so every house has a 
piano, whether the owner is, or is not, one of those, 
" who can tell the tuning from the overture." 
There is generally musical talent enough in every 
circle, to promote conversation at a tea-party ; and 
there is seldom a summer's night, that is without a 
serenade. 

Perhaps 1 have said enough to show you that there 
is much activity, enterprise and intelligence in this 
community ; that it exhibits what is the best result, 
and surest support of liberty, self-respect ; that keeps 
them equally from offering or suffering violence, 
and induces a deference to public opinion, and a 
disposition to maintain law and order. A more 

48 



378 

peculiar and unmixed character, arising from its 
liomogeneous population, will be found here than 
in any other city in the United States. There is 
none of the show and attractions of ostentatious 
and expensive luxury ; but a great deal of cheerful, 
frank hospitality, and easy, social intercourse. In 
short, if a man can limit his wishes to living in a 
beautiful country, among a hospitable people, where 
he will find only simple, unobtrusive pleasures, 
with a high degree of moral and intellectual refine- 
ment, he may here be gratified. 



LETTER XVI. 

GENIUS, CHARACTER, AND MANNERS OF THE IN- 
HABITANTS OF NEW-ENGLAND. 

Mv DEAR Friend, 

The features of national character seem almost 
as marked as those of particular species of the hu- 
man race ; and the long period through which they 
may be discovered, under various accidents and 
changes of fortune, as well as government, is, on 
first observation at least, a subject of surprise. We 
may remark, in some families, a predominance of 
good or bad qualities, a series of virtuous or vicious 



379 

conduct, for successive generations. That nations 
exhibit a peculiar bias throughout their whole 
career, is certainly evident from history. Though 
this may be thwarted or interrupted occasionally, 
even so as to disappear for a time ; it will be found, 
on a general view of their whole policy, never to 
have been destroyed, but its effects may be traced 
through the entire era of their existence. The 
Jews, who are altogether an exclusive people, fur- 
nish an extreme case. The Homans commenced 
their career as robbers, and when they rose from 
their petty villany of a single murder, to the splend- 
ed heroism of slaughtering millions ; they continued 
the same policy, enlarged from the plunder of a 
neighbouring village, to the aggrandizement of their 
empire, by the subjection of kingdoms. The 
Greeks, who invented or improved all the arts and 
sciences, directed their chief emulation to these, 
through all their vicissitudes ; and down to the ex- 
tinction of their nation by the Turks, preserved 
many remains of this illuminating spirit, when all 
the rest of the world was involved in darkness. 
Among modern nations, the French are supposed 
to have many of the characteristics which they had 
in the days of Julian ; and as to the Spaniards, we 
have it from Count Oxenstiern, that when Adam 
was permitted to revisit the world, he found every 
thing altered and new, till he came to Spain ; when 
he at once exclaimed, " Ah ! this I know ; every 
thing is here just as I left it." The English have 
been remarkable, through many ages, for their sub- 



380 

mission to the authority of fashion in dress, and 
their unyielding adherence to the principles of civil 
liberty. The Germans unite a gravity of tempera- 
ment with a mystical frivolity ; their passions seem 
seated in their brain, and strike out into strange va- 
garies of fancy ; while those of the Italians flow 
through all the channels of the blood, beat with 
its pulse, and are profound and true to nature. 

I have made these remarks by way of introduc- 
tion to some sketches of the genius, character, and 
manners of the people in this section of the Union ; 
because I think these partake strongly of their 
origin, and cannot be well understood without 
keeping that in view. We have not quite complet- 
ed two centuries, since the first bark of our fore- 
fathers anchored under the wintry shores of Ply- 
mouth ; and two centuries, we may hope, will form 
only a small part of our national existence. The 
period is not long enough to predict what will be 
our character in after ages, when time shall have 
exposed it to all the successive temptations of ad- 
versity and prosperity ; when all the accidents of 
fortune, and the progress of luxury, shall have been 
tried, to change or corrupt it. Yet, as far as we 
have proceeded, it has not become unworthy of its 
origin, or essentially different from its first princi- 
ples. The impetus originally given, still remains, 
modified, but not eradicated. There is something 
less of exterior roughness ; but this only makes the 
inherent traits more distinct : as a surface of marble 



381 

exhibits its veins more clearly when polished, than 
in a rude state. 

The men who planted this division of the United 
States, came from the most virtuous part of the 
English nation. They carried their severe notions 
of religious purity to a degree of austerity ; and 
their assertion of civil and political liberty, to the 
dreadful alternative of a civil war. They were 
part of that body of men which brought a faithless 
sovereign to the scaffold, and raised their country 
to that glorious pitch of power and prosperity, 
which she enjoyed during the early part of the 
commonwealth. Some even of the chief actors in 
these scenes came to this country from choice, and 
others to escape from proscription. All the foun- 
ders of these colonies, were the inveterate enemies 
of the perfidious despotism of the Stuarts, and stern 
seceders from the arrogant sway of the English pre- 
lates and Scotch presbyters. A large proportion 
of them were of the condition of gentlemen, and 
their followers were all virtuous, substantial yeo- 
men. A striking and indisputable inference has 
been drawn, from the comparative purity of our 
language, respecting the class of people who settled 
the country. They came from various counties of 
England, in some of which a jargon scarcely intel- 
ligible is spoken to this day by the lower sorts of 
the people. But, among our forefathers, if there 
were any of this description, there never were 
enough to keep up this corrupt dialect ; and even 
the provincialisms that were retained or generated 



382 

here, are very few in number. . This test of lan- 
guage is one of the strongest that can be adduced ; 
and in this instance supports well-known histori- 
cal facts. 

Their first object in seeking a new world, was 
to enjoy freedom in religion ; the next, to obtain 
civil and political liberty. They came exposed to 
every hardship, and manfully encountered them for 
these noble purposes. The hopes of enriching 
themselves could form a very small part of the 
motives of the first settlers, or of those who follow- 
ed them, for two or three generations. For a con- 
siderable period their daily fare was coarse, and 
sometimes scanty. The rigid practice of piety, 
industry, and temperance, fortified their minds and 
bodies, to endure the sufferings incident to the in- 
habitants of a new country. These virtues gradu- 
ally ameliorated their condition, and procured them 
an increase of their means, and the substantial com- 
forts of life. If they had been satisfied with this 
result, they would not have risen above an estab- 
lishment of Quakers or Moravians ; but continued 
frugal, virtuous, thrifty and obscure. They how- 
ever, possessed more elevated designs ; there were 
among them both clergymen and laymen, who were 
profound scholars, who had imbibed in the English 
universities the soundest conviction of the value of 
learning, and that religion especially could not be 
maintained without it. Hence, they never lost 
sight of the necessity of instruction ; schools were at 
oKce established, and they founded a college during 



383 

the first generation. It was this enlightened course 
that gave a peculiar tone to their character. Talent 
and education were assured of their leoitimate 
importance, and they constantly showed themselves 
the watchful and jealous guardians of every reli- 
gious and civil right. 

These men belonged to that class who were 
called, or rather stigmatized, with the name of Pu- 
ritans ; yet, under this name, the most virtuous and 
energetic part of the English nation were at one 
time enrolled. The Independents were ihe persons 
who kept the state from falling under the despotism 
of the Stuarts, and religion perhaps from relapsing 
into the power of the Pope. There were of course 
many fanatics among them, and their extravagances 
were imputed to the whole. In those who came 
here, there was great rigour and adhesiveness to 
their particular tenets ; yet fewer absurd fanatics 
than in England. There was no deficiency, how- 
ever, of bigotry or narrow-minded prejudices ; and 
these were often most obstinately manifested in 
trifles. This was the fault of the age, when trifles 
were magnified into importance ; or, to speak more 
justly, when trifles were considered the indications 
of fundamental principles : the latter were in fact 
the subject of contest, in the name of the former. 

Many circumstances contributed to preserve an 
austere bias of character in these colonists. The 
country gave no rich productions to create wealth 
and luxury ; and therefore offered few inducements 
for men to expatriate themselves, except they were 



384 

stimulated by the same motives that led the first 
settlers. The gradual increase of the population 
left the first comers a preponderating influence, and 
obliged successive emigrants to assimilate them- 
selves to them. The plain and simple manners, 
the gravity of character, the sternness of religious 
principle, the bigotry of their opinions, repelled all 
foreigners, and almost all Englishmen of other sects, 
from coming here, and all such who crossed the 
Atlantic, went into other colonies. E'.ducation was 
entirely in the hands, or under the direction of the 
clergy, who were all Independents and Calvinists. 
The first magistrates of the country were all men 
of noble simplicity and rigid virtue ; and there was 
no levity or profligacy of conduct in the leading 
men in society, that could countenance or excuse 
any frolicking or debauchery among inferior people. 
These were the principal causes, which gave that 
severe aspect to the manners, that unity of faith and 
practice, both ni religion and politics, which conti- 
nued unchanged for a century. 

The introduction of the Episcopal Church, fa- 
voured by the court, from motives of policy rather 
than religion, and of other sects, — the mission of 
governors from England, the increase of property, 
of commerce, and of the capital, created progressive 
alterations. These, however, grew imperceptibly, 
and their influence was only superficial. The prin- 
ciples, prejudices, and habits of the puritans, had 
taken too deep root, and were too widely spread, — 
T may add, fortunately, to be eradicated. They 



385 

continued little diminished, to the Revolution, of 
which they were one of the original causes. The 
concussion of war, and, above all, of civil war, — 
the introduction of many foreigners, — the sudden 
alliance with France, after a century and a half of 
deadly animosity, heightened with all the strength 
of provincial and religious bitterness, — the cordial 
reception and intermixture of the most accomplished 
noblesse of the French court, with the plain citizens 
of this hitherto remote and secluded country, (strange 
contrast !) — the changes, the excitement, the patriot- 
ism, the profligacy created by war, passed away, 
leaving few traces, out of the large towns. And 
since the Revolution, the wide extension of com- 
merce, the great accumulation of wealth, the spirit 
of enterprise, stimulated and exerted to the utmost, 
— the ardent feeling of adventure, which has sent 
so many young men into every part of the world in 
pursuit of pleasure, instruction, or gain, — all these, 
combined, have left the solid fabric of our character 
and manners as unimpaired, as the granite rocks of 
our country ; — and the variations they have pro- 
duced, render it only more striking to the philo- 
sophical observer. 

The original system of discipline for the young, 
which is still almost every where in force, turned 
principally on two points, — the subjugation of the 
passions, and a perfect equality of standing, — giving 
to seniority the chief and almost exclusive claim to 
deference. Under the first of these, was included 
the discouragement of vivacity, the reproof of all 
49 



386 

gayety, the condemnation of all angry emotions and 
impetuous expression. The perpetual lessons in- 
culcated, during childhood and youth, were to be 
mild, submissive, serious, devotional, and respectful 
to age. All brilliant sallies were checked, and any 
impatient sprightliness frowned upon. A steady 
composure, a calm and gentle demeanour, a slow 
and cautious habit of reasoning, were held up as 
the objects of imitation. The equality of condition, 
which was carried very far in society, was perfect 
in all the schools ; the children were all on a footing ; 
the station or wealth of the parent caused no dis- 
tinctions, — they were all allowed the same advanta- 
ges, and exposed to the same treatment ; and all 
taught to bow to every passing stranger, and to 
every old man in the village. Some change has 
taken place in this respect ; — wealthy parents have 
sought for more select schools, — their children 
perceive sooner the advantages they possess, and a 
little arrogance on this account is not wholly re- 
pressed ; — childish impetuosity and juvenile pre- 
sumption are partially tolerated, under the idea that 
their talents will be more readily developed, and 
their character be rendered more decisive and 
enterprising. It is not perhaps quite decided that 
this is an improvement. 

A punctual attendance on public worship from 
infancy, and the great use that was made of the 
Bible in the schools, contributed very much to the 
establishment of sober habits. The universal prac- 
tice of perusing the scriptures, which, in former 



387 

times, constituted almost the exclusive reading, had 
a great influence, not only in promoting religion 
among the people, but upon their manners and 
habits of thinking. The prudential maxims, the 
solemn impassioned denunciations against offen- 
ders, in the Old Testament ; the peaceful, earnest 
exhortations, to humility, patience, moderation, and 
charity, in the New ; were so often heard and read, 
that they could not fail of producing some effect. 
In fact, all the education of the country was blended 
with them, and in all public speaking, frequent re- 
ferences were made to this knowledge, as being 
most common with the hearers, as well as the 
speakers. It was not only exhortation or argument, 
that was thus rendered more impressive, but a 
witty allusion to scripture, if not indecorous, would 
be the species of illustration most widely relished and 
understood. This general and constant use of the 
scriptures produced another incidental advantage ; — 
it kept up a comparative purity in the language of 
the people, — the clear and simple English of our old 
translation was easily understood, and being in such 
constant use, the whole style of writing and speak- 
ing was founded upon it. 

Every system will be liable to a particular class 
of ill consequences, resulting from the mistake or 
incapacity of those who are reared under it. 
Thus, in some countries, where it is sought to ex- 
cite the vivacity of children, where they are taught 
to be graceful, where their sprightly sallies are ap- 
plauded, and they are urged to make a display ; — 



388 

we ar(3 sure to encounter a great deal of the " viva- 
city of inanity," to be depressed with a tedious 
gayety, and to yawn luider the efforts of an artifi- 
cial sprightliness. Under the stoical plan of subdu- 
ing the passions and controlling even their harmless 
emotions, the simulation that ensues, will be of an 
opposite kind ; and the atnioyance it produces 
more negative ; downright dulness will take the 
mask of gravity ; a constitutional indifference and 
lifeless apathy will pretend to be calm reason and 
profound reflection ; a cool, calculating cunning, 
will assume the garb of prudent caution and reserve. 
It is in vain to attempt to raise any strong emotion 
in such individuals ; they turn the edge and blunt 
the point of every mental weapon ; wit or argument 
are both powerless ; to these they are impervious. 

If I were writing a treatise, I might apologize 
for this digression. — The results of the education 
I have mentioned, might be inferred without seeing 
them. Such a people must be serious, reflecting, 
and cold in their manners ; that they are the former, 
cannot be disputed, any more than that they are 
the calmest people in their deportment, of any in 
the world. I use the word calmest, rather than 
coldest, as more truly applicable. Could such tui- 
tion be introduced under a despotism ; were it com- 
patible with it, the subjects would be the most quiet 
of all slaves. But here, where it is given under a 
government, whose leading principle is the mini- 
mum of restraint, its object is to avoid rashness and 
violence, and to make the citizens deliberate and 



5«9 

orderly. The constant habit of political and reli- 
gious discussion, and the familiarity with law pro- 
ceedings, tend to nourish acuteness and foresight in 
reasoning, as well as in perceiving the actual rela- 
tion of things. There is so much liberty, such 
entire equality of privileges ; enterprise is so unfet- 
tered, that there must be great intensity in thought, 
and great energy in action. There are no people 
more capable of measured excitement, or more 
steadily persevering ; there are none who can be 
made to feel so much, and, at the same time, ex- 
hibit so little exterior emotion. Pantomime is ab- 
solutely unknown. Those who have been taught 
to give their feelings vent in gesticulations and ex- 
clamations, are confounded at the tranquillity of 
one of our audiences ; yet the proof, that this is not 
owing to insensibility, is the profound and motion- 
less attention which an able orator, either at the 
bar, in the pulpit, or the senate chamber, will pro- 
duce among his hearers of every description ; this, 
after all, is the highest scale of applause, the most 
animating and glorious to the speaker. But an 
orator must be very cautious in order to create this 
effect : it must depend rather on the steady heat, 
than on the w armth of his manner, to succeed. He 
must have complete control of his passions, and re- 
sort to vehemence of expression, and a display of 
emotion, in a very sparing method. 1 have witnes- 
sed a discussion at the Institute, where all the phi- 
losophers of France were assembled, that would 
have provoked open laughter here. I have heard 



390 

debates in both Houses of the British Parliament, 
where the tone would have been much too impetu- 
ous for a caucus ; 1 have heard speeches in Con- 
gress commence in such a mock impassioned style, 
and terminate in heroics, as would have been deem- 
ed flatly ludicrous. An orator here loses all influ- 
ence who gets in a passion ; every body is on 
guard against the contagion ; he excites only pity 
or ridicule ; a fiery speaker, in any of our assem- 
blies, is like a live coal fallen on ice ; he may sput- 
ter for a moment, but is soon extinguished. He 
who uses the words that burn, must be so temper- 
ed, as not to become heated by their emission ; he 
must resemble those mountains, from which the 
lava makes way over a belt of snow, to overwhelm 
all before it. 

1 have dwelt long on this subject, to show how 
far back the origin of our manners may be traced : 
that it grew out of the soundest and purest part of 
the English nation ; who in contending against the 
encroachments and corruptions of the crown and 
the mitre, were naturally led into the extreme of 
op])osition : that from this body of men proceeded 
the first colonists of New-England, whose austere 
principles, and the hardships to which they were 
exposed, prevented any from joining them, except 
the most resolute and inflexible. These colonists, 
thus separated from the rest of the world and its 
allurements, another chosen people in the wilder- 
ness, as they were apt to consider themselves, were 
here nurtured in hardships and privations. They 



391 

were exempt from the defections and relapses, 
which took place in the mother country after the 
Restoration : in fact, desertion went on there, and 
recruiting flourished here, until this portion became 
the most numerous and respectable part of the In- 
dependent, Dissenting interest. Their tenets here 
were steadily maintained ; every thing around har- 
monized with their severity ; and as there was 
neither example nor reward to entice seceders, none 
fell off, except those who were unable to sustain 
so much stern self-denial. The principles of the 
Puritans were, therefore, inculcated, uninterrupted- 
ly in every school, and practised in every society ; 
they became so thoroughly incorporated with the 
whole social system, that even now our manners 
are deeply imbued with them, though both in theo- 
ry and practice their rigour, as well as uniformity, 
are at least greatly relaxed. 

The cold, passionless appearance which our man- 
ners exhibit, must not, therefore, be taken as the 
foundation of our character. Under this exterior 
will be often found a force of humour, an ardour of 
thought, and energy of action, which surprise those 
unacquainted with the disposition of the inhabi- 
tants. There is a slow, deliberative manner, that 
is sometimes very provoking to irritable disposi- 
tions ; but when the occasion calls for it, there is 
no sluggishness, indifference, or faltering. An emi- 
nent individual — who when the occasion required, 
led his gallant regiment, sword in hand, through the 
breach, with an impetuosity that ensured victory — 



392 

relates of himself an anecdote, which will illustrate 
these remarks. Talking one day with his superior 
officer, the passionate, impatient, General Charles 
Lee, the latter exclaimed, " Why the devil do you 
'' stare at me, with your mouth open ; why don't 
" you reply quicker ? — I say every thing off hand, 
" that comes into my head, and by G — d I am 
" ashamed of my own questions, long before I get 
" your answer." — " He explained to him," (slowly, 
however,) " that the habit was inveterate ; that he 
" supposed it grew out of the situation in which 
" the Puritans were placed ; they were persecuted, 
" and obliged to be very cautious with the answers 
" they gave, to avoid difficulties ; and this, with 
" many of their habits, had been handed down, and 
" became a part of our education." Watch these 
people when a conflagration takes place, or any 
sudden emergency, demanding promptitude, cour- 
a^e, and expedients, and then observe a collection 
of them, taken any where ; the difficulty will be 
discovered to exist in the abundance, rather than in 
the deficiency of these qualities. 

The style of conversation here, has yet a long 
progress to make, before it reaches that degree of 
perfection, which is one of the last and most de- 
lightful results of high refinement and crowded so- 
ciety. We have yet to acquire, what Dr. Johnson 
called, " the fine, full flow of London talk," or the 
more brilliant and accomplished style of Parisian con- 
versation; that conversation, which made Madame de 
Stael and so many others who have enjoyed it^ 



393 

eonsider exile from the society of Paris, as a most 
insupportable calamity.* We may hope to ap- 
proach it in time, because there is no country where 
the inhabitants depend so much on conversation for 
their amusement, none where so little resort is had 
to music, dancing, cards, &c. The reliance on 
talking for a diversion is nearly universal, in all 
parties, whether consisting of two, or two hundred, 
with both sexes and all ages. Such habits may 
lead to a finished style hereafter, but at present 
after surmounting the weather, and family inquiries, 
we are too apt to mistake disputation and argu- 
ment for conversation. We have so many profes- 
sional men, so many sects with their wire-drawn 
subtleties, so many legislators, and the habit is so 
general of taking an interest in one or all of these 
pursuits, that conversation is too often infected with 
their peculiar pedantry. f Yet to harangue, to 
argue, or to controvert, are not to converse. Very 
able men sometimes assume from habit a mode of 
discussion, that only wants, "Mr. Speaker" or 
" my Christian Friends," or " may it please your 

* In the 14th Number of the Edinburgh Review, article of Marmontel's Me- 
moirs, there are some just remarks on the faults to which this brilliant conversa- 
tion is prone. 

t The narrow hiibits of the bar are carried into Congress and all our legisla- 
tures ; where from the number of lawyers those bodies contain, the predominant 
mode of discussion is more like special pleading, than the debating of statesmen. 
Tiiis led to the remark of a very shrewd observer, " that Congress certainly con- 
" tained a great many men of ability and extensive information; they appeared 
" like statesmen, till a debate commenced ; but this was always the handful of 
" chesnuts, that would make them forget flic parts they were acting; tliey then 
" fell at once into their natural habit of scrambling to invent subtle distinctions, 
^' and maintain small points, with all the acuteneeSand finesse of attorniet." 

50 



394 

Honors" prefixed, to make it a regular speech, a ser- 
mon, or a plea. Graceful and rapid narratives, easy, 
unaffected remarks, sudden, unexpected turns, a 
light, obvious irony,* glancing allusions, leading 
questions, sprightly repartee, assertion v»^ithoiit dog- 
matism, and serious observation without formality, 
are some of the elements that give a charm to con- 
versation : and if argument is brought forward, it 
should not be like a charge of heavy dragoons, bear- 
ing down all before it, and trampling under foot by 
mere dead weight ; but rather like a flying incursion 
of light cavalry, which if it does not carry off the 
prize by an unexpected assault, retreats out of sight 
immediately. 

A forensic, argumentative discussion may be a 
very good exercise occasionally for students, but 
adds little to the pleasure of social intercourse, as 
we perceive at once that it is neither an exhibition 
of playful wit, or profound thought, but a mere 
display of logical acuteness, a resolute defence of 
small points, a struggle not for truth but for vic- 
tory. This vicious inclination to perpetual argu- 
ing, is frequently shewn to a person recently re- 
turned from abroad, in a way, that is amusing or 
vexatious as his humour may be. If such a person 
when asked about the countries he has left, endea- 
vours in perfect good faith to give the impressions 
he has received, his information may perhaps be 

* Irony however in tliis ooinitry particularly is very apt to be misunderstood, 
and the person who uses it taken literally. ]t is a habit that results from a more 
advanced and complicated state of society than what exists here. 



395 

disputed by some individual who has passed all 
his life snugly arguing at home ; and then the un- 
fortunate traveller must either be prepared to go 
into a course of reasoning, against the most deter- 
mined cavilling, under a manifest impossibility of 
convincing, or resign the subject with a smile to the 
impertinence of his antagonist. 

There is one advantage we derive from educa- 
tion, that may be justly valued. Opinion is met 
by opinion, and not by violence. The dirk and the 
pistol are hardly known as arguments, or needed 
as correctives. Duels are almost unheard of, ex- 
cept among military men, and then chiefly confined 
to subalterns. There is hardly any person of ma- 
ture age in society, that would dare to violate public 
feeling, by engaging in a personal contest. If there 
is not always good-temper, there is at least good- 
nature, and a man is disgraced who shows a want 
of it. Personal ferocity is so much discouraged, 
that he who cannot subdue his disposition, must 
take to the woods. A boxing match, or a blow, 
are of much more rare occurrence than they were 
a generation since ; the habit of applauding or 
stimulating such feats, was renounced with our 
transatlantic allegiance. 

The accumulation of wealth, the frequency and 
rapidity of intercourse with all parts of our own 
and many foreign countries, has had some influ- 
ence. The former gave the means, and the latter 
furnished the examples, which could not be imitat- 
ed without a relaxation of the primitive rigour and 



396 

simplicity of society, and an emancipation from 
some narrow prejudices. Still the progress of 
luxiny, and the innovations on ancient opinions, 
have proceeded in a very measured manner. A lit- 
tle more elegance, a moderate increase of luxurious 
comforts, and greater liberality, if not greater can- 
dour, in matters of opinion, are the present limits of 
the change. Hospitality on a moderate scale of 
expense, and an easy style of social intercourse, 
still maintain their ground against mere parade and 
idle, insipid etiquette. The style of manners is in 
the right line to reach perfection ; for this consists 
in chastened ease, polished simplicity, and total 
absence of affectation and pretension. If none can 
boast of having reached this point, yet at least, in 
pursuit of it, they have not deviated into false 
methods. That sort of bustling importance, a loud 
step, a spreading diameter of movement, a rustling 
approach, an affected tone of voice, an assumed 
confidence, and all the train of restless manoeuvres 
to obtain personal consequence, which are so fash- 
ionable in some countries of Europe, fail here en- 
tirely. It is quite amusing to observe some 
foreigners, or some of our young men on their first 
return from abroad, practising these airs in vain : 
there is no corresponding dutter; they are met with 
such a calm, ruinous composure, that they are soon 
abashed, and forced to adopt a natural, tranquil de- 
meanour. If tiiey have not intrinsic merit enough, 
to sustain themselves in this simple state, they must 



397 

sink till they find their level, and remain quiet in a 
corner. 

In alluding to the increase of wealth, as producing 
an effect on society, it may be remarked, that itshiflu- 
ence is less here than in Europe. On the Exchange, 
among merchants in the prosecution of their business, 
it is of course the first inquiry, the prevailing solici- 
tude, the universal aim. Intelligence is so much 
diffused, the processes for multiplying riches have 
become so numerous, through the extension of 
commerce, that there are few persons who do not 
strive for something more than a mere subsistence. 
The maxim, that wealth is power, is very widely 
known, and the rivals for this power are numerous. 
But its votaries are not all inordinate ; some are 
satisfied with obtaining a moderate share of it, while 
a great number are content to gain a decent compe- 
tence, in the various pursuits of public or professional 
life. But wealth is still of less relative importance 
here than in older countries. And this advantage 
grows out of the noble simplicity of our institutious, 
and of our public characters. The accumulation of 
w^ealth in the aristocracy of Europe, has so accus- 
tomed the subjects of those countries to a gaudy 
display and parade, that no man can fill a high sta- 
tion without them ; a great statesman, or a great 
commander, could not exist there as they have done 
in former times and do still among us ; without a 
retinue, an equipage, and the costly profusion of the 
table. If the person who fills any considerable sta- 
tion does not possess a fortune, the government 



398 

must either provide for him, by salaries that crush 
their finances, or he must retire from the stage. 
The public are so accustomed to the display of 
opulence, that they think respectability cannot exist 
without it, A bishop, therefore, must have a prince- 
ly revenue ; a minister or a commander must pos- 
sess a gre^t income, to over-awe the vulgar, or he 
cannot hold his situation. A luxurious display is so 
common ; opulence is considered so essential to 
dignity, that great talents must have great wealth, 
to support an appearance in the world, which a 
wrong estimate of wealth and talents respectively, 
renders necessary. We go here into the opposite 
extreme ; but the simplicity that surrounds our 
public employments, keeps up the respect due to 
talent, and makes riches of less importance. Mere 
wealth has seldom attempted, and still more rarely 
succeeded, in a struggle for public favours, against 
talent without it. 

The plain and modest manner in which our 
highest magistrates, and all persons in public life, 
are obliged to live, from their having such low 
salaries, and frequently such small fortunes ; tends 
to keep down the consequence of wealth, and to 
prevent a ruinous, idle ostentation, from becoming 
fashionable. Expenses run more in the line of real 
hospitrdity, of substantial pleasures, and enjoyments 
of an intellectual description. The cost of showy 
equipages goes into a hospitable table ; the savings 
from frivolous extravagance in dress, are converted 
into wine that has travelled farther than Alexander, 



399 

with full as much power to subdue the world, and 
more to cheer it ; the wages of useless servants de- 
corate our walls, or our libraries, with the produc- 
tions of genius. Ostentation is exhibited in no form 
of expense, except perhaps in our houses. Thf^ro is 
a taste for having large and elegant houses, when the 
owner enters into no correspondent expenditure. 
Should this style of building, and a taste for the 
luxuries of the table, be carried much farther in the 
capital, it will recall the observation that was once 
made on a city of Italy, of which it v^^as said ; 
" that the inhabitants feasted as if they had not a 
" day to live, and built as if they were never to 
" die." 

Another circumstance which tends powerfully to 
repress extravagant expense, are the laws regulat- 
ing the division of property among heirs. Chil- 
dren, in the eye of the law, have all equal rights, 
and if no will is made, the parent's estate is divided 
among them equally. Natural affection commonly 
acts on this principle, which it may seem to have 
dictated ; though sometimes the partiality, but more 
often the vanity of an individual may give a princi- 
pal part of his estate to one child, under the impulse 
of some vague, confused feelings of pride, about 
preserving his name : a foolish expectation, that is 
often productive of cruel injustice, and is always 
followed by disappointment. Even the permanent 
aristocratic system of Europe, for perpetuating cer- 
tain families, is subject to numerous, and some of 
them strange, accidents. But here it is a staring 



400 

absurdity ; because the design must be defeated. 
The principle runs counter to the spirit of our insti- 
tutions, — and our legislatures will always assist 
every combination of heirs, to break entails. The 
only mode of sustaining a family is by education ; 
by implanting in the minds of children, prudence, 
discretion, and under the guidance of these virtues, 
a degree of public spirit, that may endear them to 
their fellow-citizens. There is nothing but a suc- 
cession of abilities and useful services, that can re- 
tain public esteem ; there is no rank and no pos- 
session, so protected by the laws against the mis- 
chief which folly and profligacy will create, that 
they will survive it, to descend entire to some more 
virtuous representative. Public esteem and respect 
can only be secured by each man for himself; — 
no one can value himself long on the merits of his 
father or grandfather ; — the virtues or the fame of 
his ancestors may, indeed, serve him for a favoura- 
ble introduction, but he must then rely on himself; 
and he, perhaps, falls even lower, if he is unable to 
imitate their conduct. 

The constant division of property, prevents any 
great estate from being long kept together. The 
current of fortune may accumulate its golden sands 
in one spot, but the first storm, or the first ebbing 
tide, will scatter it away, and heap it in a difierent 
place. Wealth is not often preserved through three 
generations, because it cannot be placed in lixtures, 
out of the power of individuals to dissipate it. A 
man. therefore, with considerable wealth, who 



401 

maintains his family in elegance, is obliged to 
economize a large part of his income ; and even 
then, when it comes to be divided among his chil- 
dren, it will not enable all of them to live in the 
same style with their father. This successive dis- 
persion of the riches that industry, skill, and good 
luck have brought together, is attended with this 
useful consequence ; that every rational man, satis- 
fied, from what he daily sees, of the uncertain ten- 
ure of wealth, gives all his children an education, 
that may enable them to exist after its loss. Every 
man learns some profession or mystery, that may 
serve him in case of need. The fniges consumere 
nati form a very small number ; — almost every man 
is occupied with production. 

The fluctuation in wealth, which is here so in- 
cessant, prevents too much arrogance in its posses- 
sor, or, at least, hinders it from being hereditary. 
A good name, to be sure, is something ; — it would 
be hard, indeed, if it were not ; but those who are 
in possession of the first rank in society, can main- 
tain it only against the intrusion of vulgar preten- 
sions and impudent mediocrity. It is impossible to 
exclude real merit ; — this takes rank ai once, with 
as little opposition, as courage in the hour of dan- 
ger. The prejudices elsewhere existing against 
certain professions and callings cannot be exerted 
here to render the person who follows them ridicu- 
lous, if his character be respectable. A man is 
only obnoxious to this kind of obloquy, when he 
has suddenly risen on the wheel of fortune, and 

51 



402 

gives hintself airs from licr caprices iu his favour ; 
the revenge of society is then furnished by memory. 
But men of the greatest eminence in this coun- 
try have risen from the deepest obscurity ; they 
have " achieved greatness," and the attempt to 
reproach them with that obscurity, would here 
be deemed absurd. This is one generous triumph 
over the narrow bigotry of aristocracy. Talents 
not only find the way, from poverty and depression, 
to be fostered and distinguished ; but the truth, 
which the privileged would suppress in Europe, is 
here often felt that nature makes more real gentle- 
men, than even rank or fashion. This state of 
society will, however, offer some difference in its 
aspect, from one, where those who constitute the 
fashionable part of it, are formed and finished out 
of a certain exclusive portion, from materials that 
are, perhaps, intrinsically inferior. Our society 
must present more energy and robustness, from 
being so frequently crossed by the native vigour of 
wild stocks. There are many who, reared in pros- 
perity, are too refined, or too feeble, when a reverse 
comes, to struggle successfully with the talent that 
has acquired hardihood and force, under the adver- 
sity from which it is emerging ; — many such, 
who would have discharged the duties of superior 
situations respectably and gracefully, recede from 
an eager competition. They sink away, and are 
lost iu the shade. This misfortune, if it be one to 
society, excites only a transient, individual pity, 
and is without a remedy. 



403 

Intelligent and cultivated minds are scattered 
over the whole country ; the high tone of moral 
sentiment which is the consequence, is one great 
source of our strength. Discerning persons will 
not confound two very distinct things, fashion and 
civilization, together ; and will not mistake a want 
of the brilliant and disciplined manners of the first, 
for a deficiency of the last. They may frequently 
see a degree of awkwardness and shj ness border- 
ing on rusticity ; where at the same time may be 
found the truest and best results of civil society. 
There is throughout these states a general abhor- 
rence of violence, a submission to the laws, a gen- 
tleness of demeanour, a deference to talent, a de- 
sire of improvement, a diffusion of knowledge and 
a degree of intellectual cultivation, which mark an 
advanced state of civilization. There are two or 
three small cities in Connecticut, and many villa- 
ges, where a circle, composed of intelligent and re- 
fined people, may be found, particularly New-Ha- 
ven, the seat of Yale College, Hartford, and Litch- 
field, whose civilizing influence extends over all the 
district about them. In Massachusetts, there are 
also many such circles. Salem, from whence com- 
merce is very actively and successfully pursued, and 
where it has deposited a great deal of wealth, is re- 
markable for the retired, secluded habits of its 
population ; but contains some individuals who have 
made distinguished attainments in science and lite- 
rature, in which they have published several works. 
Worcester, Northampton, and Newbury port, may 
also be cited, among others, for having produc- 



404 

ed distinguished men. Portland, Hallowell, and 
Brunswick, the seat of Bowdoin College, in Maine, 
— Portsmouth, Concord, and Hanover, the seat of 
Dartmouth College, in New-Hampshire, — Wind- 
sor and Burlington, in Vermont, — Providence and 
Newport, in Rhode- Island, may be mentioned in 
this list. In these small towns are to be found 
able, professional men, — and in some of them, 
country gentlemen, with very competent fortunes, 
who generally possess a very salutary influence in 
their districts. These are, besides, dispersed in 
lesser towns, and thus no village is left without 
some men of liberal education, who contribute to 
the diffusion of information and the elevation of 
public sentiment.* 

The traces of primitive manners are more visible 
in the country, where they could be more easily 
preserved from change. The man who, from hav- 
ing received a liberal education, and possessing a 
considerable landed estate, is entitled to the appel- 
lation of a country gentleman, was always a person 
of influence. To maintain this influence, grave, 
and rather severe habits, a plain calm dignity of 
manner, a strict attention to religious duties, were 
necessary, — and also to abstain from all jovial and 
boisterous amusements. No levity, no immorality, 
was permitted in any one who held any public sta- 



* This diffusion of ir\forniation and refinement is a ^reat advantage. The cele- 
brated Abbe Correa, one or two of whose shrewd and brilliant remarks 1 have 
already quoled ; said of the State of Pennsylvania, that it was like a superb 
Spliynx : Philadelphia was the head, but all the rest was beast. 



405 

tion. Such was the country gentleman, who held 
any office in the state in former times, and- such, in 
some instances, he still continues. But this dignifi- 
ed and austere cast of character has not ah\;«vs 
been fortunate, — at least in receat tinies. in e;ivi :g 
thf same habits to his chiirh'en. The sons h;: e 
often fallen short of the fathers' repiU'tion, or 
wholly disgraced it, and wasted their estaie ih pro- 
fligate dissipation. 1 have seen some instances, 
where this misfortune grew out of mistakeii prin- 
ciples of education, and an adherence in the parent, 
to certain forms of behaviour which mav have 
answered in earlier times, but became inexpedient 
as society advanced. There was something patri- 
archal in a family establishment formerly ; the 
whole household were assembled at morning and 
evening prayers ; the servants were not menials, 
and the children mixed fre( ly with them. The 
dignity of the parent kept up a reserve that inspired 
awe, and restrained the confidence of his children. 
No very nice distinction was made in the kind of 
respect that was due from the children, on account 
of their youth, or that which was paid by the hired 
people, on account of their station. These latter 
were seldom born, and seldom died, servants ; they 
served for a time, till their wages would enable them 
to begin clearing land for a farm. In such ai; es- 
tablishment, the gradations of respect turned more 
on the point of age than any other ; and perhaps 
the children might have been so treated two or three 
generations since, without any ill consequences. 



406 

As the state of thihgs altered, as the domestic dis- 
cipline was a little relaxed, the reserve and coldness 
of the parent drove the bojs more into the compa- 
ny of dependants, who gave them vulgar ideas and 
clownish manners ; and when they succeeded to 
their fathers' property, it was only to waste it in 
vicious, low excesses. 

The general equality of property marks a vigo- 
rous and healthy state of society, where the two 
extremes bear a small relative portion to the 
whole. Every man may be, and every farmer is, 
a landed proprietor; the relationship of landlord 
and tenant is not numerous ; it might be advan- 
tageous if it were more so. A young farmer begin- 
ning life, lays out all his means, and runs in debt 
for the purchase of his farm, which keeps him incum- 
bered for a number of years ; he has not capital suffi- 
cient to become a land owner. If he began by hiring 
a farm for a few years, rents are so low, that 
he would be increasing his capital, and eventu- 
ally become a proprietor with more facility ; and 
at the end of fifteen years would be a richer 
farmer, if he passed the first seven as a tenant, 
than if he had commenced the first year on his 
own land. Tliis, however, is little practised ; the 
natural pride of owning land prevails over these 
calculations ; but the gradual progress in the ten- 
ure of property is increasing the number of ten- 
ants and landlords. For a long and almost in- 
definite period, at least till our vast western regions 
are peopled, this must be productive of mutual 
advantage in the older districts. Capitalists, by 



407 

making investments in lands, lend their capital to 
agriculture, and the tenant having his little pro- 
perty all active, can employ it with success, and 
get beforehand in his affairs, to become a pro- 
prietor afterwards. The mischievous tendency of 
the system, to engross all lands in the hands of 
a few, and by deriving the greatest possible 
amount of rent, reduce the tenant to dependence, 
and the labourer to pauperism, cannot happen in 
this country for centuries. 

There are few persons here, who can suffer 
absolute distress from poverty. That which arises 
among the wealthier classes, from great reverses, 
I am not considering ; but an uncertainty about 
the common means of subsistence can never hap- 
pen in the country, except to the miserable drunk- 
ard, or the unfortunate victim of some bodily or 
mental infirmity, who of course are supported by 
the public, when destitute of friends ; the labour- 
ing man, with health and good habits, may always 
obtain the comforts of life, and increase his savings. 
Every industrious man may look forward with 
certainty, to becoming the proprietor in fee sim- 
ple of a small farm ; and there are thousands 
who, with nothing but their labour and good manage- 
ment, have found themselves, at the middle of 
their lives, owners of a large one, producing am- 
ple means to give them all the comforts of life. 

As unremitted exertion is not requisite to obtain 
the common means of living, it is seldom found, 
except among those, who, under the impulse of 



406 

ambition or avarice, strive for something higher, 
and wlio of course form the minority. That stea- 
dy, mechanical, mill-horse toil, which is general in 
Europe, is not often seen here ; and where it is 
not necessary, it cannot be expected. The w^hole 
quantity of work performed in a given time, how- 
ever, will not be less here than there. The manner 
is more irregular ; the labour is more by fits and 
starts ; at certain periods it is v^ry arduous and 
effective. When once stimulated, no people per- 
form more in a short period ; they will not trot so 
long patiently in a harness ; but bring them to a 
competition, to a match against time, and they 
will show blood and bone too. They are suscepti- 
ble of excitement in a very high degree, and for a 
long period : when they once " spring to it,'''' the 
results are prodigious. After the late war, the 
American and English officers compared notes on 
the frontiers, with respect to certain work that had 
been done, and where both parties had exerted 
themselves to make a rapid progress : it was found, 
that in ship-building, in making intrenchments, and 
other efforts, our people had exceeded the others, 
by at least one-fourth. This was what might be ex- 
pected from their respective habits. Some improve- 
ment in our practice may be made ;' yet it may be 
hoped the period is distant when incessant, unvaried 
drudgery, which destroys all elacticity of mind and 
body ; shall become indispensible to the support of 
our population, but more regular efforts than are 



409 

now habitual, would be accompanied with many 
good consequences. 

This effect will, I think, grow out of the im- 
provement that is now taking place in agriculture, 
and also from the gradual increase of manufactures. 
Our system of farming was so simple, so bad in short, 
that it left the farmer with much time unemployed, 
and of course very small gains. The labour was 
very intense at certain periods, such as planting, the 
hay harvest, &c. and very sluggish, the rest of the 
time. But when greater skill is employed in farm- 
ing, the labours of the year are more equally distri- 
buted. A great deal of ploughing is now done in 
the autumn that was formerly confined to the spring ; 
the collection of manures, the dressing of lands, 
now go on at seasons that were before passed in 
comparative idleness. If there were no increase of 
production and wealth from an improved state of 
agriculture, its tendency to form more regular habits 
of industry, would be a sufficient motive for its pro- 
motion. 

The extremes of heat and cold have some influ- 
ence on the customs of labouring people, and still 
more on the habits of those who use exercise for 
health and amusement. It is a general fault, that 
we do not take exercise enough, and the only ex- 
cuse is, that in extreme heat, and extreme cold, it is 
difficult ; and it is not easy to maintain a habit 
which is liable to long interruptions. Reason 
would be well employed in trying to make exer- 
cise more fashionable with both sexes and with all 
52 



uo 

classes ; and particularly in persuading the public, 
that there is nothing ignominious in walking, and 
that young men should prefer mounting a horse to 
lounging in a gig. A more frequent practice of man- 
ly exercise is a desirable object, for the young men, 
especially, of all classes. A stranger, who has seen 
Europe, and should then observe our highways, 
could not fail of being struck with the excessive 
difference in the proportions between those who 
walk, and those who ride here, and on the other 
side of the Atlantic. There are here no brilliant 
equipages, as are frequent there ; but in this country 
every one rides ; few on horseback, but in vehicles 
of some sort almost all are riding, — very few are on 
foot, — and this circumstance would alone indicate to 
him, very truly, not only the ease, but the love of 
it, that prevail in this country. 

This general equality is not wholly without 
exceptions : virtuous industry is sure of being re- 
warded with a competence ; and a vicious, abandon- 
ed course, will entail misery on itself every where. 
We have no palaces, and very few hovels ; a log- 
house is the first shelter for those who are making 
encroachments on the forest, to bring new land un- 
der cultivation. This rude shelter is generally re- 
placed in a few years, by a more commodious dwel- 
ling. I have one instance of contrast in my mind, 
for an exception to the general condition, which I 
may cite, after premising, that it forms an extreme 
case. 



411 

On the bank of one of the most beautiful riverS; 
in this country of beautiful rivers, in the midst of 
some extensive park-like grounds, there stands a 
modest mansion, whose Grecian outline and fair 
proportions are a happy type of the virtue, hospi- 
tality, and refinement, that reside beneath its roof. 
The road leading to the entrance of this estate, lies 
on the immediate bank of the river, which is fringed 
with a growth of birch, ash, oak, and evergreen trees, 
and various native shrubs, planted by nature in the 
most picturesque manner. A short distance from 
the gate, in a small nook, formed by the projection 
of a fence, where the bank rose a little above the 
road, there stood a shapeless hut, tenanted by a 
solitary hag, of the most ominous aspect. This 
strange being, after leading a life of the lowest 
profligacy in a village at about a mile's distance, 
had selected this spot with some judgment, if not 
fancy, to establish herself, when she could no longer 
fmd a home in the village. Having gradually 
collected from the river shore various pieces of 
floating lumber, she hired the aid of a carpenter for 
one day, which was sufficient to complete her resi- 
dence ; where she established herself, a few years 
before the mansion I have mentioned, was built. 
A little labour, but chiefly the charity of the village, 
afforded her sustenance. As her strength declined, 
she could go no further than to the kind family of a 
worthy farmer, who was nearly the same distance 
from, her on one side, that the proprietor of the 
domain was on the other. From these she obtained 



412 

her food ; the river supplied her with water, and its 
shores with driftwood for fuel, which in hard 
weather the neighbours sent " their people " to cut 
up. Her dwelling proved, very forcibly, how few 
are the real wants of human nature, and how great 
are the sufferings and privations it can endure. 
Towards the close of her life, this solitary creature, 
half blind, quite deaf, became so decrepit, that, with 
the aid of her staff, her daily visit to the neighbours 
was a tedious effort, though the distance was only a 
few rods. When squatted down to rest herself in 
one of these excursions, Fuseli might have derived 
some hints from the object while painting his witch 
seated under a toadstool on the ground, out of 
which they both seemed to have grown the night 
preceding. I have sometimes met her in the gloom 
of twilight, sitting down by the side of the path in 
silence, like a rungus on its surface ; and without 
distinguishing whether it was the sight, the hearing, 
or the mere vibration of the air, which the pulsation 
of any breathing thing will create, that gave the 
alarm, — I have started from a reverie when just on 
the point of treading on her ; and I have, several 
times, found my horse, albeit incapable of musing, 
affected in the same manner. The parish had once 
or twice placed her, from feelings of humanity, with 
their poor ; but she could bear to live with no one, 
and no one could live with her. 

This desolate being railed against society, on 
which she had no hold : she belonged to no nation, 
for she was born at sea, in a ship coming from 



415 

England ; her mother died on the passage, and she 
never knew her parents ; she had, therefore, as she 
said, neither kindred nor country. She was pre- 
served, amidst a callous, indifferent world, as a 
feather may float securely amidst rocks and eddies, 
where mightier things would perish. Fostered by 
the eleemosynary care of those, to vvhom chance 
had committed a helpless infant, she grew up with- 
out check, without guidance, and without encour- 
agement. She led a life of the lowest profligacy, 
redeemed by no single virtue except honesty. The 
just prejudices of the inhabitants had caused her 
sometimes to be accused of dishonesty, but an ex- 
amination always cleared her from this crime. She 
had two daughters, who left her as she became in- 
firm, to pursue, if possible, a worse career than her 
own, in the lowest haunts of the metropolis. — On 
making a visit not long since to my frierid, as we 
were approaching his grounds, I perceived this 
hovel in a ruinous state, with the roof torn off. I 
pointed " to the blackened ridge pole, of the ru'iied 
shealing," and accused him of having ousted poor 
Meg ; he reddened slightly at the charge, like a man 
incapable of inhumanity; and told me that, having 
grown extremely feeble, she had been removed to a 
farm-house about a mile below, there she received 
such care as common humanity could bestow ; and 
there this miserable wretch, desolate and friendless, 
after lingering about three weeks, terminated a lo.ig 
life of hideous profligacy, with the most irjghtful 
execrations and blasphemies. 



414 

One ot the characteristics oi' the people gene- 
rally is inquisitiveness ; this is sometimes carried to 
an amusing length, and has often been awkwardly 
caricatured by daubers. The fine and deep vein of 
humour which Dr. Franklin possessed, was exerted 
in a well-known story, and has formed the basis of 
many a miserable imitation. This curiosity is not 
always impertinent, and often marks an intelligent 
people. They do not carry it quite to the extent 
which the Parisians do ; and a man in the best so- 
ciety of Paris, will have as many point-blank ques- 
tions directed at him, as he will encounter in Con- 
necticut or Vermont. But this disposition to inqui- 
ry often proceeds from kind and simple feelings, is 
commonly accompanied with a degree of commu- 
nicativeness that shows confidence, and a willingness 
to give, as well as receive. None but ill tempered 
persons need dread much annoyance on this score ; 
because the curiosity may be easily checked by a 
little address or good-nature. A traveller will 
always meet (the exceptions will at least be rare) 
with a friendly, obliging disposition, when in want 
of information, or any accidental assistance, if he 
acts with civility : I mean true civility, and not an 
insolent condescension. There are no people who 
can perceive, and feel the difference more quickly ; 
and there are none who are more skilful in regulat- 
ing themselves accordingly. A person with the 
Cockney tone of manners, presuming upon that 
portion of a gentlemanly exterior, that his tailor 
has been able to give him ; may chance to come in 



413 

contact with a man in a plain or even workingdress, 
who may be in every thing his superior ; and the 
degree of satisfaction he will receive, will depend on 
the style of conversation he may adopt. Generally 
speaking, it is a good rule to presume every man to 
be your equal : it will be found that civility is seldom 
thrown away, even upon an inferior. 

If the time should ever arrive that we shall pos- 
sess a domestic theatre, with authors and actors who 
have been accustomed, from infancy, to observe and 
feel the nice shades of local peculiarities, the comic 
muse will have some worthy offerings from this sec- 
tion of our country. The class of clowns in Euro- 
pean comedies, have here their counterparts, but 
greatly varied by the institutions under which they 
live. An equal degree of awkwardness, rendered 
more ludicrous, by a greater degree of education ; 
a good deal of native shrewdness, with a large por- 
tion of social simpleness, will give rise to many 
scenes of comedy. Go a step or two higher, and 
take individuals of both sexes, who have lived in 
seclusion, with some natural tendency to eccentrici- 
ty, and have got all their ideas of society, from 
books, and of dress, from their own fancy ; and 
watch them when they make an incursion into the 
world, and the comedian will find them replete with 
excellent matter. But comedy can never rise among 
us until we have native actors, who can seize upon 
the wire edge of what is humorous in cliaracter,under 
which all its sharpness is concealed. There is 
something peculiar in every national character. 



416 

which, like idiom in language, or accent in speak 
ing, a foreigner can rarely, if ever attain. 

I have often derived amusement from the singu- 
larities to vvdiich I here allude, but observed them 
too vaguely, to attempt their description. 1 can 
only offer you a rough sketch of an individual, who 

fell in my way some time since. Hezekiah K 

left his wife and his home at a mature age, to better 
his condition by a temporary abseiice. He came 
to Boston, to let himself for help ; or to express it in 
other words, entered into service in a gentleman's fa- 
mily, and changed his place but once during this ca- 
reer. His tall and rather gaunt person, was surmount- 
ed by an appropriate head, whose sandy locks fringed 
a countenance of very hard outline, the expression of 
which was serious, but not gloomy. Had you seen 
him in the street when the state of Massachusetts 
was represented en masse, a few years ago, you 
might have taken him for a delegate, or if a dis- 
tressed traveller had met him on the road, when the 
Sabbatists were in power, he might have imagined 
him to be a tithing-man. I do not know in what 
capacity he originally entered these families ; but he 
served, on occasion, as a double to every servant, 
from the coachman to the chan)bermaid. He could 
drive the horses, cook the dinner, sweep the apart- 
ments, and make the beds ; and when he had nothing 
else to do, would sit down to sew ; making his own 
clothes and mending his own stockings. With one 
of these gentlemen he went to Washington, and 
though in place, he was rather a dissatisfied man. 



417 

which arose from two evils ; his dread of the small- 
pox, and his disgust at the shiftless, sluggish move- 
ment of slaves. Whether it was from these cir- 
cumstances only, or from his having nothing of what 
Talleyrand calls the future in his mind, he had a 
prejudice against the metropolis of the Union ; 
and in his plain, inoffensive way, observed, " it was 
no more like a city than Cambridgeport." — Per- 
haps, in some of these points, a European servant 
would be found to resemble him ; but there is one 
in which the parallel would cease : — when he left 
his last place, it was to return home with his wages, 
to a farm of a hundred acres, which he owned in 
fee simple. 

There is a strong relish throughout this region for 
a kind of dry humour, that turns upon what is lu- 
dicrous in the contrasts and inconsistences of cha- 
racter. A fondness for quaint comparisons ; a good 
deal of skill in defeating argument, by involving it 
in some unexpected conclusion ; a happy adaptation 
of a story or a parable to the subject in discussion ; 
an expression of a very strong opinion, with an in- 
evitable inference, but in an indirect way ; with a tone 
of unyielding gravity and simplicity, — are the chief 
modes in which this humour is displayed. In the 
early times of these colonies, the clergy had so 
much control over all the movements of their pa- 
rishioneis ; their intercourse with them was so direct 
and constant, that their names and character were 
frequently brought into view. Though almost in- 
variably treated with respect, yet sometimes they 

53 



418 

came in collision with persons, or were placed in 
circumstances that occasioned ridiculous contrasts. 
Their formidable coadjutors, the deacons, who stood 
between them and the people, were obnoxious to 
a good deal more freedom of handling. The pro- 
fession of rigid sanctity, and the habit of exterior 
solemnity, when, as it would sometimes happen, 
they were accompanied with a great degree of 
keenness in worldly interest, and occasionally with 
frailties very incompatible with their situation, were 
sure to be remarked, and made the subject of ridi- 
cule. This was a fruitful source of humorous an- 
ecdote, which is now diminishing, because the offi- 
cers of this description have lost something of their 
relative consequence, in the progress of society ; 
and politics, commerce, and newspapers, have found 
their way into every village, and occupied the in- 
habitants more with distant, general concerns ; and 
broken up that seclusion, which tended to form pe- 
culiarities in character and manners. 

If I could have recourse to some of our able nar- 
rators, I could readily produce numerous specimens 
of this humorous spirit. At the moment, my 
memory hardly serves me with the means of mak- 
ing any selection. I can only cite two or three 
examples, that may perhaps enable you to judge of 
this disposition. An instance of quaint comparison 
is related in a town in the western part of Massa- 
chusetts, where the clergyman was remarkable for 
giving his sermon very little connexion with his 
text. It stood like a sign-post before a house, 



419 

where no tavern was kept. When this peculiaritv 
was a subject of conversation, one of his parishion- 
ers observed of him, that if his text had the small- 
pox^ his sermon coulcfnt catch it. — A few years ago, 
at the parade of the artillery election, which takes 
place on the common in Boston, some confusion 
took place, as the close of the procession was enter- 
ing the ground appropriated to the ceremony. The 
crowd was pressing very hard at the entrance, and 
the bar was put down before all the representatives 
had got in. Some of these called out to the offi- 
cer who had charge of the passage, in a tone ex- 
pressive of their claim to admission. We are repre- 
sentatives ! — A man among the crowd immediately 
vociferated, in the same tone, We are the people 
themselves ! 

The telling a story, or introducing a parable to 
have a witty application, is often practised. No 
instance occurs to my recollection that is not rather 
hackneyed ; and the examples of them which occur 
in Dr. Franklin's life and works, are known to all 
the world, and form the best examples. The fol- 
lowing anecdote may be new to you, and will illus- 
trate one of the species of humour I have mention- 
ed. — An individual in Connecticut, of great talents 
and respectable connexions, but who led a graceless, 
dissipated life, was travelling with a small party, 
the individuals of which were all known to each 
other. Among them was a very respectable matron, 
who, in the course of conversatioii, began to re- 
proach this rake whh the life he led. — She lament- 



420 

ed that a man with his abilities, ol such a respec- 
table family, should pursue such a course. Her 
zeal made her very eloquent, and the object of it 
began to wish to get rid of the discussion. He ob- 
served to her, that she was very severe ; that peo- 
ple were very much the same ; that there was less 
difference between them than she supposed. O ! 
no, she said ; there was nobody so bad as he. — In a 
de[)recating tone and manner, he replied, that most 
people would act alike, when put in the same situa- 
tion ; that his conduct and her's would be the same; 
if placed in similar circumstances. — She retorted, 
that was impossible; that they could never act 
alike in any case : he thought he could name one ; 
— she defied him : — suppose then, madam, that in 
travelling, you came to an inn, where all the beds 
were full except two, and in one of these was a 
man, and in the other a woman, which would you 
take ? — Why, the woman's, to be sure. — Well, 
madam, said he, so would I. — Even the lady was 
obliged to join in the laugh, by which the profligate 
wit made his escape from a troublesome argument. 
I have only one more anecdote to mention, and 
this I get from a newspaper : it may probably have 
gone the rounds of many of them, but it is so cha- 
racteristic, that I shall run the hazard of repeating 
it. The substance of it is as folllows : There made 
his appearance in Cincinnati, what they called 
there, 1 suppose figuratively, '• a good sleek Yan- 
kee :''^ he carried with him from Pittsburg one 
thousand dollars in bills, issued by one of the banks 



421 

in Cincinnati ; he knew too well, that these bilb 
were at 20 per cent, discount, these banks having 
suspended specie payments. He, however, chose 
to have the pleasure of visiting the bank, and enter- 
ing it, went up to the counter, presented his bills 
with a grave, expecting face, wishing to have specie 
for them ; they replied, they did not pay specie ; he 
seemed a little surprised, but asked if they would 
give him in exchange the bills of any banks that did 
pay specie : he was told they had none. — He now 
took a turn in the bank, and then asked them, if 
they would give him bills of the " Owl Creek," 
or of one or two other ^^fog-banks,^^ which were by- 
words even in that country : they told him that they 
would not be insulted. — Insulted ! — he assured them 
calmly it was no insult. — After taking another turn 
he asked them, as an ultimatum, if they would give 
him any tolerably ivell executed, counterfeit notes, of 
any bank in the Union, that did pay specie. — They 
talked still louder about being insulted ; when their 
troublesome visiter, after taking a few more turns 
in the bank, departed. 

The character of this people must be in some de- 
gree known throughout the United States ; in every 
district there are emigrants from this quarter, and 
some whole states have been peopled from it ; so 
that their character and manners are in some de- 
gree blended with those of every portion of the na- 
tion. All who migrate do not, as might be con- 
jectured, present the most favourable specimens, 
or proceed from the soundest part of the popula- 



422 

tion ; yet, in some places, vulgar prejudice lias at- 
tempted to take even the smallest and worst part 
of those who leave us, as a fair sample of the 
whole : but this is only the error of low minds. 
Thousands go every year to other states, and hun- 
dreds fall untimely a sacrifice to sickly climates. 
The tide of emigration will long continue to flow, 
undiminished, from a healthy, prolific country ; this 
must tend to bind us, by intermixing the whole, 
more strongly together. Our adventurous youth 
are ever on the wing to find new sources of advan- 
tage ; they are carried every where by 

*' Such winds as scatter young men through the woild, 
" To seek tiieir fortunes farther than at home, 
" Where small experience grows." 

From what I have said, you will perhaps be able 
to form a just estimate of the general character of 
your fellow-citizens, in this section of the Union. 
Those who know them will, I think, allow that they 
are brave, intelligent, mild, enterprising, and serious; 
with much more mental cultivation, and more refine- 
ment of sentiment, than either brilliancy of exterior 
or polish of manner ; — that they are hospitable and 
benevolent, with very little of etiquette or ostenta- 
tion ; — that they are dispassionate, by education 
and habit ; ardent and persevering, from nature and 
circumstances ; — ^that in religion, they are disposed 
to attend more to things than to words ; in politics, 
more solicitous for freedom, than for sway ; — that 
the forms of society are simple, its intercourse easy. 
Those who hnve a relish for the domestic style of 
enjoyments, and value its influence, would here 



423 

experience great satisfaction. A celebrated diplo- 
matist, whose knowledge of our country equals 
that of any native, and whose philosophic mind 
makes him always happy and brilliant in generaliz- 
ing the results of that knowledge, has said, that the 
diiference between Europe and the United States, 
was this ; " that in America, there was happiness 
" without pleasure ; and in Europe, pleasure with- 
" out happiness." This, which was applied to the 
whole country, is fully true of this part of it. 
Pleasure, as it exists in the great cities of Europe, 
cannot be found on this side of the Atlantic ; the 
cup of Circe could not be filled among us ; but 
happiness abounds. Even the dissipation of society 
here at least has a kind of family, domestic air, 
that makes it perfectly harmless ; a solitary relaxa- 
tion, of which there is too little, rather than too 
much. All that is public, enticing, and disengaged 
from household cares ; all that fosters the contagion 
of disordered passions, that keeps up a morbid 
excitement for dangerous enjoyments, and gives 
fashion the dominion over reason ; — all that kind 
of dissipation which furnishes moments of keen 
intoxicating pleasure, and hours of anguish or apa- 
thy, must be sought in Europe. Our dissipation is 
simpler ; the Penates are always in sight, or at 
farthest in the next room ; there are no irritable, 
feverish delights to be extracted from it ; pleasure 
would find the scenery and action insipid, where 
happiness presides with smiling complacency. 



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